The Bamboozlement of One Wesley Hughes
by another pointless penname
Summary: "That makes you the queen!" It was during times like these that Wes truly hated Kurt Hummel. "All I need is the tiara, then. Could I borrow one of yours?"
1. Chapter 1

This had to stop. This, this chaotic _mess _that had started. And it was all due to Kurt freaking Hummel. Had he known just how much trouble the spy would be when first officially meeting him in the local coffee shop, he most certainly wouldn't have been nearly so understanding as he was at the time. But _dammit, _the kid had looked so very adorably lost and confused that he had completely blinded Wes to the truth.

Kurt Hummel was a monster, out to confuse and bamboozle Wes to the point where he began to doubt the many unwritten laws he had lived by his whole life(_refusing to let loose like the other boys wasn't being a stick-in-the-mud, rather it was a clear sign of early maturity _and _he was straight as a ruler), _rules that had served him long and well.

Until _he _came along. Moving in as Wes' roommate, (and for the record, he was the worst roommate _ever_), stealing his place at Blaine's side without even a single word of apology to him(the nerve). Taking Blaine's heart oh-so-easily with just one beautifully sung song, _Don't Cry For Me Argentina, _making Wes look like the bad guy when he was rejected for the solo.

That could all have been forgotten over time, though, had he not decided to interfere in Wes' life directly.

It had started at lunch one day, just moments after he had reprimanded one of the Warblers for talking a bit too loudly(it was _obnoxious, _for God's sake) when Kurt had looked him right in the eye, and uttered the words that would lead him to utter condemnation in Wes' mind.

"It must be painful," he said, tilting his head as he eyed Wes thoughtfully.

"What?" Irritated, he snapped back.

"Having a pole stuck that far up your ass." Silence. Utter silence. Far too stunned to say anything, he glanced to the side to see Jeff and Nick doubled over in barely restrained laughter(the traitors). Blaine was busy staring at Kurt open-mouthed, shocked by his use of a profanity. (Gasp!)

The devil himself merely continued eating placidly, smirking at Wes in obvious amusement.

"Honestly, Wesley, I have yet to see you _ever _actually have fun. Now that you're my friend, though, I've decided to make you my _new project."_

WTF? A Wicked quote, really? He narrowed his eyes at the boy, deciding to go along with it.

"You _really" _stressing the really," _don't _have to do that." Eat it, pretty boy, you're not the only one who knows your Broadway besides you and Blaine.

If anything, Kurt's grin grew wider. "I know. That's what makes me so _nice."_ Tossing Wes a smug look, he stood up in his seat, placing one hand dramatically on his chest.

_Oh dear God, NO._

"Whenever I see someone, less fortunate than I-" _dear God, please sit down and shut the eff up _"-and let's face it, who isn't, less fortunate than I! My tender heart tends to start to bleed." At this he lowered his head, placing his hands mock sorrowfully over his heart. At this point, the whole rest of the cafeteria was staring at them.

He was going to kill Kurt Hummel.

"And when someone needs a makeover," at this Wes snorted as he continued, "I simply have to take over. I know, _I know, _exactly what they need. And even in your case," he leaned over and put his hand sympathetically on Wes' shoulder. He was doing this on purpose, Wes knew, as he planned _exactly _how he was going to murder Kurt. At this point, the rest of the Warblers were all snickering, including the other Council members. _So help me, Kurt Hummel, if you make a fool out of me in front of the whole cafeteria, I will personally END YOU with a rusty chainsaw._

Kurt continued, voice rising, "though it's the_ toughest_ case I've yet to face," he drew up, still holding Wes as he made a fist with his other hand, "don't worry, I'm determined to succeed. Follow my lead!"

And thus it continued. To his horror, Kurt managed to drag him to the front of the hall, twirling and dancing around him with exaggerated facial expressions. To top it off, he could _see _David out of the corner of his eye, cracking up with the rest of the Warblers. _And the whole rest of the cafeteria._

Finally, the last line.

"Just not, quite as popular, as, _meeeee!" _Kurt threw his head back, raising his hands over-dramatically as he drew out the last syllable.

Applause filled the room as Kurt bowed, even while Wes stomped back to his seat.

"Oh my God_, _dude! That was freaking hysterical!" Thad said laughed, grinning ear to ear. "You should have _seen _your face!"

"Yeah, no offense dude, but-" David spoke in the most _irrespective _manner(damn you, Kurt Hummel!) "-you do need to lighten up a bit."

He seethed at this, even as Kurt came back to sit next to Blaine. People kept coming up to congratulate him, chuckling as they tossed some words around. A few people came up to _Wes, _confirming just what David had said("Good to see you've learned to let loose a bit, Wes.").

It _infuriated _him.

Who did he think he was? And then, then, he actually asked Wes if he was bi. Even if he was, how the hell was it Hummel's business?

When he reiterated this thought, the boy merely shrugged. "Just curious. I mean, most completely straight guys I know would never have recognized a quote from Wicked."

Nerves frayed, he growled that no, he was fully and utterly straight. As the others finally turned back to their own conversations, Kurt just gave him a slight knowing look.

_What?_

* * *

><p><strong>Okayz, so...<strong>

_Yeah. I used _way _too many italics in this. Oh well. I can see Wes over-using italics in his thoughts._

_Just in case you're wondering, this will turn into Wes/Kurt. while I'm usually an avid Klaine shipper, I find the idea of Wert(or Kes?) rather adorable, especially when written by a good author. So I decided to try one._

_Oh, and since I'm not supposed to use song lyrics, I didn't use all of them. Just the first few, 'cause it was necessary. Lyrics belong to Wicked, Glee is NOT MINE.  
><em>

_Warning: This **may **turn into smut. Until it does, though, I'm just going to leave it at T. The moment smut comes up, it will go to M._

_Reviews are love! Any ideas will be all too gladly taken into consideration!  
><em>

_-Mel  
><em>


	2. Chapter 2

"We were considering for our opening number-" a loud yawn interrupted his sentence. Gritting his teeth, he narrowed his eyes at Kurt, who merely gave him a lazy smirk in response.

Thankfully, Thad stepped in before Wes did something unprofessional. Such as to start swearing at him in German, as he was feeling increasingly tempted to do."Warbler Kurt, if you could please desist from yawning every time Council Leader Wes begins speaking."

Mental facepalm. Thad was eager to please, certainly( though his idolization of Blaine was rather creepy), but there were times when Wes honestly wanted to hit him with his gavel. Like right now.

Just after he was finished bashing Kurt's skull in with it.

Kurt, with the most _irritating_ look on his face answered mockingly, yet just tinged enough with fake sincerity that he wouldn't be called out for it, "Oh, my dearest apologies, Warbler Wes," he did that intentionally, Wes knew, "I _honestly_ wasn't at all aware that I may be keeping you from imparting any vital information you might be inclined to share with the rest of us. Please, continue." Satisfied he had properly enraged him, he sat back, wearing a content expression.

Wes studied his gavel for a moment, mentally measuring the amount of pain that could be inflicted with it before the recipient lost consciousness. He then continued, somehow able to keep down the urge to throttle the brunette.

"As I was saying-"

Thankfully, the meeting ran smoothly on from that point, albeit with a few snide comments from Kurt, but altogether well. Or, at least, until it was about twenty minutes to the end of the meeting.

"Any questions or comments?"

Jeff and Nick's hands flew up at the same time, both trying to hold their hand up higher than the other.

With a sigh, he called on Jeff before they could start shoving each other. "Jeff?"

Bouncing excitedly in his seat at having "won", he asked in a rushed breath, 'You do realize Warbler Kurt's been asleep for the past hour or so, Councilman Wes?"

He was, indeed, asleep, face buried in the arm of the couch, having fallen over on his side.

Wes was going to freaking kill him.

"Did _no-one _bother to wake him up?" He demanded sharply.

Everyone looked at Blaine, who was currently ducking his head in a sheepish manner.

"I tried, of course, but nothing happened when I poke him, so..."

Grumbling to himself, Wes stalked over to the sleeping form, mentally debating just how to wake him up. It suddenly occurred to him that he was still holding his gavel.

Cue evil smile.

He nudged him slightly, just to make sure the rest of the Warblers wouldn't accuse him of abuse, planning to jab it into Kurt's ribs.

_Finally._

But, of course, Kurt had to ruin any hopes he might have had, even when sleeping. Eyes still closed, he actually dared to _touch the gavel. _He freaking wrapped his hand around the end being used to nudge him. As if it wasn't enough, he even attempted to _tug it out of Wes' hand._

Hell no. He was _not _about to start a tug-of-war fight with a sleeping Hummel over his gavel. It was _undignified._

He totally did anyway. He gave it a sharp jerk, hoping to shake it out of Kurt's grip. No such luck. If anything, the boy merely clutched it all the tighter and- _did he just growl?_

Wes drew the line at getting bitten. He quickly released the gavel, glowering when Kurt smiled in triumph. In his sleep. It was both annoying and kind of scary at the same time.

Fully aware of the eyes of all the Warblers on him, he slowly and deliberately walked around to the back of the couch. He hesitated only for a moment before, in one quick movement, he shoved Kurt off the couch.

His body hit the floor with a _thump, _making at least half the Warblers wince.

Wes watched as Kurt's eyes flew open, hissing in pain. He wrapped himself into a ball, arms wrapped firmly around his ribcage.

He didn't even realize until seconds later that the rest of the Warblers were glowering at him, including the Council. Blaine's eyes were in _slits, _he was so pissed off.

Crap.

"Weeeessss," Kurt whined when he stopped rolling around dramatically on the floor, draping himself across Wes' feet, "why would you do that?" He looked up at him with these _huge, freaking pitiful_ eyes that reminded Wes vaguely of a kicked puppy.

And now he was the kicker. _Goddammit it._

"Next time," he stated firmly, ignoring the looks the Council was giving him, "don't fall asleep during Warbler practice, understood?"

Kurt opened his mouth to retaliate, but suddenly seemed to notice the item he was currently holding against his chest.

"Why do I have your gavel?" Wes made a face; he _would _ask that question.

"You stole it from me."

A gleeful smile spread across Kurt's face at this tidbit of information. "In my sleep?"

"Yes." He answered shortly. "Now if you would please _give it back."_

From the ground_(_he still hadn't gotten up, of course), the countertenor looked contemplative. _So help me Kurt Hummel, if you decide to submit to your stubborn side now-_

He handed it up to Wes, catching his eye as he let go of it. Wes quickly cradled it against him, relief at having his beloved gavel back filling him.

For a moment, an understanding passed between them, and Wes felt oddly grateful towards him.

That feeling passed away several moments later when Kurt wrapped himself around one of Wes' legs and refused to let go.

**Yayaz.**

_Another really short chapter!_

_..._

_Anyway, I gotz me an urging to write, so I did!_

_...Glee is not mine, unfortunately._

_Leave a review! The more you leave, the more cuddle!Wert action you might see soon!_

_...Poor Blaine is feeling unloved right now, what with Kurt giving all his cuddles to Wes. Review, and get Blaine some cuddles!_

_-Mel  
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	3. Chapter 3

"**Who the hell stole my Diet Coke?"**

Wes walked into their dorm room to the sound of Kurt screeching. Lovely.

Shit. Kurt had his About-To-Rip-Someone's-Face-Off bitch face on. He could already feel a headache worthy of listening to Alvin and the Chipmunks on repeat building.

"What happened now?" Tantrums like this had occurred multiple times before, usually caused by some poor fool spilling his drink on the diva. In these situations Wes often found himself internally cursing the clumsy moron for not having the sense to do so during Kurt and Blaine's morning coffee, instead leaving him to deal with a bitchy Kurt when it occurred _after _school. Today, however, it seemed, might be different.

"Some idiot stole my Diet Coke while I was in class! I freaking _live _on the stuff, and I'm going to freaking _murder _whoever took it!"

Ah yes. Kurt's unhealthy addiction to caffeine. Somehow he'd managed to install a mini fridge in their room(without consulting him, of course,) and kept it constantly stocked with his precious Diet Coke stores that he broke into when he arrived back in their room, usually after Warbler practice or his study dates in the library with Blaine(as Wes had dubbed them, despite Kurt's protests.)

And now his caffeine was gone. God kill him now, before Kurt could get to him.

Wes survived-somehow-through the rest of the evening, unsuccessfully attempting to block out his many tirades toward the perpetrator of the heinous crime.

The coffee machines at Dalton, of course, were turned off after breakfast, a sort of unofficial punishment for any dumb schmucks who might have woken up after the official meal time. And the nearest coffee shop that Kurt was willing to buy from was an hour way, making it impossible to make it there and back if either of them intended to make it inside by curfew.

Wes would have left, of course, had everyone not been off in Flint's room going at a huge video game marathon. And he _really _had to study for his geography test. And, by rule of handbook, no students were allowed to stay in the library for more than twenty minutes without a partner.

Dammit.

Why him, he mused sorrowfully, why did he, of all people, end up with the one person he couldn't stand as roommate? Couldn't he have ended up with David, or Thad, or, hell, even Jeff or Nick would be better than Kurt.

But no. It seemed he would forever live haunted by the spirit-or _mouth_-of Kurt Hummel. He was going to turn into a sociopath and it_ was. all. Kurt's. fault._

He was going to miss his mind. He really was. it was a good mind, sensible and fast. It would have gotten him through college, helped get him a job, maybe a nice wife and some kids later on.

All this might have happened and more, had his surname not betrayed him.

Hughes and Hummel. The two first letters were the same, damning Wes to a year and a half of Kurt.

He had come along and _ruined _the blissful peace Wes had been enjoying after his previous roommate, Jack Hunter, moved, leaving him with a single room.

"They are going to _regret _ever crossing with me-" Kurt's voice brought him back to the present. Barely resisting to bash his head against the desk, he resumed his studying, trying to tune the high-pitched voice out.

* * *

><p>He didn't sleep at all that night, of course, what with Kurt muttering and grumbling the whole night, tossing and turning and restlessly in his bed. Wes had tried to muffle the sound by placing his pillow over his head, but no such luck. The bags under his eyes mirrored Kurt's in the morning.<p>

He honestly hated him, right then, as he walked over to their table, guzzling a large latte.

Kurt plopped himself down next to Blaine, setting his cup on the table.

"Today," he announced cheerfully, "is a good day. Today is a _beautiful, gorgeous _day. And do you know why that is, Wesley?"

He just grunted, resting his forehead against his hands.

"Because today, Wesley," he went on brightly, "I have caffeine. Therefore, today is a good day. So no matter how horrible I know I'll be feeling later when the buzz wears off, I have caffeine now. Making it worth it."

"Shut. The hell. Up." He groaned.

"Wes!" David scolded.

"What!" He raised his hand, gesturing angrily to Kurt, "He can swear, but I can't?"

"You're a _Council Member, _Wes. There are certain expectations that come with this. Such as not cursing in public where the rest of the school can hear ."

"Oh, _no, _God forbid I differ even the slightest from the exemplary model of professionalism, i.e. _you."_

This was what Kurt Hummel reduced him to: snapping at David.

David frowned at him, but said nothing.

A loud sniff brought the attention back to Kurt's side of the table(of course). He dramatically wiped at his eyes, honking loudly into a tissue Blaine offered him.

"Our little Wes is all grown up now!" he sobbed, clutching his chest, "Look at him, already using sarcasm to cut down other people! They grow up so fast!"

He pressed his face into Blaine's shoulder, back shaking from the long pent up emotion spilling forth

Not.

Good Lord, maybe Kurt _had _converted him. He shuddered at the thought, and went back to his breakfast as David watched curiously.

* * *

><p>They had Warbler practice that day, typically. Shockingly enough, Kurt had yet to have any major hissy fits, only occasionally snarking at the others.<p>

The huge explosion Wes had been expecting since twelve o'clock finally occurred when Wes corrected him on his singing(he was off-key, going higher than the others, making him stand out painfully clear in the sea of voices supposed to symbolize unity).

"I swear to GaGa, Wesley Hughes, if you tell me _one more freaking time _that I'm off-key I will personally take that gavel of yours and SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS." He snarled.

Yay, another awkward moment that Kurt _had _to start, just to make _him _deal with it.

"Warbler practice dismissed," he said in a short, clipped tone.

The Warblers gaped at him until he banged the gavel, giving them the Eye, at which they quickly scattered.

Including Kurt.

"That is _freaking it,_" he spat, stalking out of the school and into the parking lot. Taking his keys out of his pocket(he was always prepared), he hopped into his car and revved up the engine.

Gripping the steering wheel far too tightly, he drove his way to the local supermarket, swooping his way through the store until he found the soda. Grabbing a twelve-no, wait, twenty-four-pack, he made his way to the checkout lane, impatiently tapping his foot. An elderly woman smiled at him as she scanned his items(item).

He tossed her a couple of tens, kindly telling her to keep the change, figuring it was worth a good night's sleep.

Rushing back, he heaved his way back up to their room, arms wrapped around the heavy pack.

He threw his door open by bumping it with his shoulder, walking in to see...

Kurt, drinking a Diet Coke quite contentedly.

"Oh, hey Wes!" He chatted excitedly, grinning at hm from his bed. "Someone returned all the- oh."

A smile started to form on his face as he took in Wes' appearance.

"Aw, Wes, did you go out to the store just to buy me some Diet Coke to make me feel better?" He was actually tearing up now. Wes carefully placed his cargo on the floor.

"I just didn't want-" he said hastily, cut off by Kurt launching himself at him. He wrapped his rams around Wes, pressing his face into his chest as he snuggled into him.

"I _knew _you cared about me!" For a moment, he just stood there, frozen in horror.

"Hey Wes, are you-" Oh God.

_Oh my freaking God._

Because David and Blaine chose _that moment _to walk in.

Right as Kurt was cuddling up against him.

"We're sorry-"

"We didn't mean-"

"We'll just be leaving now." At this the two scurried away, faces bright red.

"Get. Off." He ground out, trying to force Kurt's arms from around his body.

"No." If anything, they wrapped around him tighter, squeezing him.

"So help me Kurt Hummel, if you don't move-" He glanced up at Wes innocently, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"You'll do what, Wes? Buy me Diet Coke to make me feel better?" He smirked evilly, pressing himself closer.

Yeah, he really, _truly _hated Kurt Hummel right then_._

**Or did he?  
><strong>

_Bwahahah, longest chapter yet. Not that that's saying much. I seem to have difficulty writing long chapters. I could never write on of those 14,000 word long oneshots that people do. I just cannot._

_Wellz, in this chapter, we get our first glimpse of some Wert! cuddle action! Not that Wes was a willing participant..._

_It was still adorable, though. And Kurt is a cuddle fiend. So there._

_...It just occurred to me how small a role Blaine's been playing so far. Don't worry though! There shall be more Blaine next chapter!_

_And just in case you were wondering when this takes place: Sometime before Sectionals. Before all the Klaine angst/drama.  
><em>

_Glee is NOT MINE._

_Any grammar or spelling mistakes I didn't see, feel free to point them out._

_Reviewz, please! Ciao!_

_-Mel  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

"Monsieur Hummel, que fais-tu?" Wes glanced up from his work to Monsieur Barkley, who was currently standing above Kurt's desk, peering down at him.

He sat up. This could be interesting. Kurt Hummel, in trouble during _French class._

Kurt handed him a piece of paper Wes suspected he had been doodling on, explaining quickly, "Je dessine les fauvettes sous forme d'oiseau approprié."

Wes only immediately recognized the word for "draw" (Kurt was _fluent, _a fact that had made him want to cry when he had heard it). This made him rather suspicious, of course, when Monsieur Barkley glanced down at the paper, looked over at Wes, and proceeded to study the paper again with a slight tilt of the lips.

"As-tu fini ton travail?" He questioned.

Kurt nodded. "Oui."

"Bon. C'est un bon dessin, Monsieur Hummel." He moved on to the next student.

Wes felt his jaw drop. _What the hell was on that paper?_

* * *

><p>French class soon came to an end, thank God. Wes hurried over to Kurt's desk(at the front of the room, next to Flint's, since Blaine refused to sit in the front)<em>.<em>

_"_Oh, hey Wes," the countertenor greeted him, stuffing his book in his bag hastily. "How'd that geography test go earlier?"

He felt his fingers clench because, of course, Kurt would ask him that. "Not well, if you can believe it. I imagined it must have had something to do with the banshee in my room shrieking while I tried to study."

Kurt actually looked concerned. "A banshee, really? Sounds quite horrible."

_"_It was."

Pregnant pause. Then-

"So, Wes, did you actually want to say something, or are you just delaying me out of spite?"

Wes would have choked at such an accusation had he been eating/drinking something at the time. Please. As if he would sink so low, be so _petty.  
><em>

_"_No, actually_, _I was merely wondering what that paper was that you showed Monsieur Barkley earlier."

The corners of Kurt's mouth curled up to form a cute smile.

_No, he is not cute. He is evil and diabolical. Do not let his adorable, angelic face take you off guard._

Kurt was rifling through his bag, muttering under his breath before finally pulling the long-awaited paper out.

"I was doodling the Warblers in their avian forms."

Indeed, their they were_. _Detailed sketches of birds, each one neatly labelled with their respective Warbler counterpart_._

Blaine was a canary, David an owl(so fitting), Thad a hummingbird(he snorted at that), Nick a parrot, Jeff a woodpecker(so true), Flint a stork, and so on.

Kurt was watching his reactions with a pleased expression until he came across his own likeness.

A hawk. A glaring, fierce looking hawk that actually had a dead mouse dangling out of its beak.

There was that headache, again.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Kurt mumbled_, _dropping his eyes_._

He didn't say a word; he just dropped the paper on the desk, turned, and walked out.

"Wes!" The sudden slap of running feet behind him brought him to a stop_._

"I never did," he gasped, doubling over,"thank you for the Diet Coke."

"You're welcome."

Kurt met his eyes_, _stepping forward.

_Too close. Way, way too close for comfort._

"No, really, Wes," He edged closer. "Thank you."

Wes could feel his skin growing hot._ Step back, Hummel, step b_a_ck._

He didn't, of course. Rather, he closed the distance between them, hugging Wes firmly.

"Please stop." Wes said.

He did, amazingly enough. He moved away, looking flustered.

Awkward silence for several seconds.

I'll- I'll be seeing you then, Wes," and he watched as Kurt rushed off, the back of his neck flushed pink.

_What the hell just happened?_

Then he noticed the time and cursed aloud.

* * *

><p>"Sooo."Wes was just walking along to class, not disturbing anyone, when Jeff and Nick took the liberty to surround him on either side. He could already <em>feel <em>a headache building at the mere presence of the two.

"Sooo." Nick repeated, chortling at Wes' answering glower.

"...Yes?" He drew out slowly, scowling at the both of them.

"We may or may not have heard-"

"From a little birdie-"

"That you've been recently found to be-"

"Getting your cuddle one-"

"With Kurtie pie!" They chorused, grinning at each other. He snorted at this.

"Kurtie pie? You do realize Kurt would more than likely disembowel you in your sleep if he heard you call him that?"

Too late it occurred to him that that was all the confirmation they need. They beamed, each tossing an arm around him, Nick's around his shoulders, Jeff's on his waist.

"It's so..._refreshing,_ Wes, to know you've finally begun to accept your inner gay. It means-" a smile broke out across Nick's face, "_it means, _we can finally embarrass you publicly without any fear of you going off at us in a rant of poorly hidden denial and a rather pitiful attempt to brush off _feelings_ that have quite obviously been plaguing you for a long, long time."

_Kurt. _Kurt had done this, what with his irritating overly cuddly and affectionate ways. He had inflicted upon Wes all of Jeff and Nick's unrestrained attention, which had only before been held back by sheer intimidation.

And the gavel.

He unsuccessfully attempted to shake the pair off. People were _gawking, _for God's sake, and the last thing he needed were rumors of him involved in a threesome.

The idea alone caused him to shiver in horror. He spoke icily at the two.

"One: I am _not _gay. I'm perfectly straight, thank you very much."

"Bisexual, then," Jeff responded cheerily.

"And two," he went on, ignoring them, " I was not _cuddling _with him. Kurt decided to bodily assault me, for whatever reason, and Blaine and David chose that moment to walk in." He felt a small twinge at the lie in the sentence, but he _certainly _wasn't going to admit he'd gone all the way out to the supermarket just to get Diet Coke for Kurt. Even if it had been more for Wes' own sanity than his.

Nick gave him a cheeky look. "Quite sure that you weren't enjoying it there, dear Wesley? Didn't reciprocate even the slightest?"

He rubbed at his temples, trying to relieve the throbbing in his head.

'No."

Jeff and Nick raised their their eyebrows at him simultaneously.

Okay, that was just plain creepy.

"Look, can you just leave me alone for a bit?" He asked stiffly, breaking out of their grasp. "I need to get to Calculas."

"Gladly! And just remember, Wes..." Nick paused.

"We're always here for you, if you ever need some help. Sexuality is a confusing thing, and don't _hesitate _to come to us if you begin to doubt yours _in the least_."

He flared his eyes open, staring them down.

"Go."

They went. He groaned aloud, glancing at his watch. Two minutes to get to class. At least if he failed Calculas, he would have someone to point to.

**Fail whale ending to the chapter.**

_Blah. I know, I promised some Blaine action here, but... it just wouldn't work. So I gave you Jeff and Nick instead!_

The French:_Many thanks to punkballet, who helped me correct the French in this.  
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_Monsieur Hummel, que fais-tu?: Mister Hummel, what are you doing?  
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_Je dessine les fauvettes sous forme d'oiseau approprié.": I was drawing the Warblers in proper bird form._

_ As-tu fini ton travail: Have you finished your work?_

_Oui: Yes._

_Bon. C'est un bon dessin, Monsieur Hummel: Good. Very impressive drawing skills, Mr. Hummel._

The plot is thickening! Yayz! (Kind of).

_Glee is NOT MINE._

_Review, please!_

_-Mel  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

A loud blaring, rather than Kurt's voice, woke Wes up that morning. Blinking blearily, he rolled over and saw the digital clock on his dresser.

1:32.

The noise wasn't going away. A low groan escaped his mouth as he realized what was happening. Another emergency fire drill. Emphasis on the "drill".

He untangled his legs from the sheets, groping blindly in the dark. He staggered in the direction of the light switch, running his hands along the side of the wall till he found it.

Light suddenly filled the room, temporarily blinding.

"Shit." He closed his eyes, waiting for his pupils to adjust.

He heard a slight whimper from the other side of the room. Now that he considered it, Kurt had been conspicuously quiet up to this point. He swung around, fairly sure that his eyes were good. He facepalmed.

He was still freaking asleep, even with the fire alarm blasting away. Mumbling in his sleep, Kurt flipped over, burying his face in the pillow.

This wasn't good; students were given less than five minutes to get out in the hallway during a fire later and the punishment was far from pleasant. The only reason they were given that long was due to a minor fiasco, many years ago, when a student had come running out of his dorm room in his birthday suit.

Despite the hazards, a rule was created that students had to have at least boxers and an undershirt on before leaving the dorms, giving everyone, even those who wore proper pajamas(like Kurt) a chance to figure out what was happening before running out in a full panic.

He scooted over and poked the boy.

"Kurt. Kurt. For God's sake, Kurt, wake freaking up!" Nothing. No reaction whatsoever, outside of him batting Wes' hand away.

He could always shove him off the bed and be done with it, he supposed, but then he'd have to explain what was happening and waste even more time. He certainly couldn't _leave _him there-though he was exceedingly tempted to do so. The alarm was still going.

"Damn you," he growled.

Tugging the covers down off his body, he picked Kurt up(he was unnaturally light for his size) and tossed him over his shoulder, maneuvering him until he was in a full Fireman's Carry, one arm slung across Wes' torso with the other dangling in the air.

Gripping his arm and the backs of his knees tightly, he made his way out, momentarily letting go of him to open the door.

Their head of dorm, Mr. Ramsey, was overseeing them as they lined up hastily, all yawning or fidgeting in some way.

"Wes!" He turned to see David and Blaine striding towards him.

David raised his eyebrow at the sleeping form slung across him but refrained from commenting. Blaine, however, used no such restraint.

"What's with Kurt?" Disregarding the stares he was getting, he hitched Kurt up higher, adjusting him to a more comfortable position.

"Your boyfriend here wouldn't wake up, so I had no choice but to carry him."

Looking worried, Blaine stepped forward and offered up his arms. "You want me to take him?"

He snorted at that. "Please, Blaine, Kurt's taller than you. Besides, I'm his roommate. It'll be easier if I carry him."

"Someone's possessive..." David said, cocking his head as he let the sentence trail away purposely.

Good Lord, David had been brainwashed too. He gave him a look before facing Mr. Ramsey, who had begun calling out names from the list all heads of dorms were required to keep nearby in case of emergency.

"Anderson, Blaine."

"Here, sir." He called, obedient as ever, even with his hair tangled up in his natural curly state. If only Kurt was awake, he'd certainly be laughing away at it. Of course, Kurt had his own case of bedhead, his usually carefully combed and hair-sprayed locks sticking up in all different directions.

If only Wes had a camera. Here it was, perfectly good blackmail material, going to waste. Such a shame.

Not to say that his own hair wasn't messy(he used gel too, just not nearly so much as Kurt or Blaine) but, it had to be said that it didn't differ _too _much from his usual look, ruining the intimidating image he worked so hard to maintain only a bit.

If only he had his gavel.

"Hughes, Wesley."

"Here."

The man didn't even look up from his clipboard before reading out the next name, "Hummel, Kurt."

He swallowed briefly. "He's here, sir." Mr. Ramsey tore his attention from his list to peer over at him, eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline at the sight. Thankfully, though, he said nothing, moving on to the next name without questioning him.

Finally, it was over and they were dismissed.

Trudging back inside their room, he threw Kurt back on his bed, his body bouncing slightly as he hit the mattress.

He would have gladly left him there, sleeping on top of the covers, had something not stuck out at him. His expression. Replacing the usually somewhat mocking, defensive mask that Wes hadn't even realized _wasn't _his default setting was an almost...peaceful, content look. Curled up on his bed, face totally relaxed, he looked remarkably small, young almost.

Amazing that this tiny, slight boy with a too high voice and a tongue sharper than a knife could seem so very vulnerable in his sleep.

Moving automatically, all the while internally berating himself, he carefully pulled up the sheets to Kurt's chin, making sure to avoid touching him. Which was somewhat ridiculous, seeing as he'd spent the last half our with his hands on his bare skin.

He resisted the urge to tuck him in because, really, that was going way too far for him to be comfortable with. He plopped down on his own bed after flicking off the lights, falling asleep too soon for him to hear Kurt's sigh.

* * *

><p>"Mind explaining why everyone's been walking around looking like death warmed over this morning?" Kurt asked Flint the next morning.<p>

The boy grunted before answering, picking up a muffin from the buffet table. "Fire drill last night. Course, you were asleep the whole time, so you wouldn't remember it."

A frown flitted across Kurt's face as he walked beside the gangly teenager. "I can't say I'm not surprised when I didn't wake up, but what happened afterwards?"

"Dude, it was awesome," Flint responded enthusiastically, "Wes just comes out of your room, freaking _carrying _you over his shoulders while you just hang there, fast asleep."

His brow furrowed. "I bet Wes didn't like that."

Flint grinned at him. "He didn't seem to mind, actually. Of course, I didn't get the chance to talk to him, what with us being on opposite ends of the hall."

Kurt just raised an eyebrow, silently pondering over this new information.

Well. This was certainly an interesting development.

**Kurt Point of View, finally!**

Not that it revealed anything, of course.

I tell you, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to write for this chapter. It started out with a Warbler Road Trip-until I realized I'd have to wait until after Regionals for that.

By the way, the biggest and most heartfelt thanks to _punkballet, _for helping me out with the French last chapter.

This chapter came surprisingly easy. The last one was a bit difficult to get out, but this one just flowed. Hmm.

Feel free to point out any errors in this in a review.

On that note, thanks ever so much to everyone who's reviewed so far! You guys keep me writing!

Glee is NOT MINE.

-Mel


	6. Chapter 6

Breakfast: He wasn't there.

French class: He wasn't there.

Lunch: He wasn't there.

Kurt was honestly beginning to become worried at this point. Wes had been in his room that morning when he left, still asleep. It _was _a bit unusual that he hadn't woken up yet, but he had assumed that he wanted to sleep in for once, like every other male teenager on the planet had done at some time in their life, if not all the time.

That probably should have been his first clue, because, really, when was Wes _ever _like other teenagers? Were it not for his slight obsession withe Redvines, Kurt would have thought he was some sort of android(just like Vocal Adrenaline).

That being said, he had only stumbled upon the Redvines when searching for a quarter he'd dropped on the floor, spotting them underneath his bed(which was kind of nasty).

When he'd questioned Wes on them, he'd stuck his nose in the air (as he was in habit of doing when offended), and replied haughtily that he only kept them as an emergency stash for Blaine.

Kurt _definitely_ believed him.

In other words, it was all too obvious what was going on:

Wes was clearly ashamed of being revealed as a human to someone else, rather than just a gavel wielding robot(as he pretended to be), so he blamed his secret on Blaine, another mock robot.

Now that he thought about it, he supposed the only thing separating the Warblers and Vocal Adrenaline were Jeff and Nick.

And the fact that Flint couldn't dance _whatsoever._

So(back to the subject on hand), Kurt was concerned.

"Have either of you seen Wes this morning?" He asked, cutting the leaves of his salad with clean, brisk strokes.

David and Blaine exchanged a look.

"No."

"I'm afraid not. I assumed if something had happened to him, we would have heard." David elaborated.

He pondered over this, chewing his salad contemplatively.

His decision made, he stood up(after swallowing), and stated, "I'm going to go check on him," not bothering to register the others' reactions before sweeping out, though he could sense their eyes burning holes in his back.

There was a slight falter in the conversation at the table.

Then-"What do you think's going on between those two?" Flint questioned obtusely.

They just shook their heads and went on with their exchange. All of them except Blaine, a heavy frown forming on his face as he stared off silently.

* * *

><p>Wes felt like complete and utter <em>shit. <em>He woke up with a pounding headache and a horrible sore throat. _Oh, _and not to mention the fact that he was mere _seconds_ from self-combustion. He was about to burst into _freaking flames _and he couldn't dredge up the energy to move.

He somehow managed to fall asleep after a few moments of listening to Kurt humming in their bathroom, waking up a few hours later to a cool hand on his forehead.

"David?" He said groggily.

The person hushed him, saying lightly, "I need to take your temperature, Wes. Open up your mouth." He did so, feeling the metal tip of the thermometer press under his tongue, along with the instructions to close his mouth and hold it in place.

He did, barely noticing in the daze he was in the slight beeping of the device and it being slipped out of his mouth.

"102.2, Wes, that isn't good."

Footsteps, footsteps, lighter than usual-weren't David's footsteps louder than that?

The thoughts flew from his minds, however, when a damp towel was placed on his forehead. He sighed in relief, barely taking in the next words the person spoke.

"Alright Wes, just stay there, I'm going to go get the nurse."

Gentle fingers carded through his hair, lingering slightly before the person left, softly shutting the door.

* * *

><p>"How long will it take for this to blow over?" Kurt asked the school nurse, a kindly, middle-aged woman by the name of Mrs. Talley.<p>

Wes had been asleep throughout the nurses visit, only stirring slightly when she took his temperature, just to confirm it for herself.

"It typically varies between one and two weeks. Do you want to have him moved to the nurse's office or-?"

"No," he answered quickly, "he can stay in our room, it's fine. Just tell me what I'll need to do." She paused at that, but seemed to accept it, nodding at him.

"He'll need to be resting in bed as much as possible," she said, "as little movement as possible, lots of fluids, soup's very good, and very nutritious food. He can take over-the-counter drugs if he has a cough, sore throat, etc. I'll be checking in every few days to see how's he's doing, okay?"

He gave her a smile. "Of course. I'll make sure to come to you if I have any problems."

Pleased, she beamed at him, saying, "You do that, sweetie. Tell Wesley that I hope he feels better soon."

"I'll do that."

Satisfied, she headed back to her office, content in the knowledge her patient would be taken care of.

Opening the door carefully, he stepped in, making sure Wes was still asleep. His breath was labored, sweat beading on his forehead. Kurt sighed, tentatively sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Poor Wes," he whispered, taking in the boy's flushed appearance.

Glancing down at his phone, he noticed the large number of texts he had received, no doubt asking where they were.

Grimacing, he sent off a mass text to the Warblers, explaining Wes would be sick for the next couple of weeks. Instantly his inbox was flooded with condolences and get wells to be passed on to Wes from nearly everyone, along with a couple of hysterical messages from Thad that were easily deleted.

He grinned, absentmindedly playing with Wes' hair(something he would never have let him done otherwise).

"You know, Wesley, despite how often you try to make yourself out as a dictator, everyone cares about you anyway. I guess even you can't hide just how big a softie you are."

With a smirk, he scribbled down a note on a scrap of paper, quietly exiting the room. Just in case Wes woke up and he wasn't there.

Wouldn't want him to go into a spasm, now, would we?

**Not really happy with how this turned out,**

I admit. The sentences just turned out really awkward, it seems. Those beginning paragraphs are just... blah.

Oh well. All the info about the flu I got off the internet, so it should be true.

Poor Wes. I do love to torture him, don't I?

Glee is NOT MINE.

Reviews are my crack.

-Mel


	7. Chapter 7

"But whhyyyyy?" Wes drew out in one long breath. From his side of the room, Kurt inhaled deeply, drawing on his last scrap of patience.

"Because, Wesley, if you get up and move around more than is necessary, you'll get even worse, insuring that I'll have to stick around _all day _to make sure you don't disobey the nurse's orders again. So frickin' suck it up and stop moaning and groaning about it before I shove you out the window and be done with it."

Typically Kurt managed to refrain from spouting such..._crude _statements, but at that point he could truly care less.

Wes had regained the power of speech(and consciousness) only a day or so after he'd fallen sick. It was only then that Kurt realized _just _what he'd gotten himself into.

Because, apparently, Wes turned into the most _whiny bitch _on the face of the Earth when he was sick. And honestly, at this point he wanted nothing more than to just knock him unconscious until he was better and regained his normal attitude.

It could be worse, he surmised, Wes _could _have an annoying, ear grating voice like Rachel Berry's when at a high level of sound(i.e. _always). _That being said, he didn't _room _with Rachel.

"_Kuuuurrrrrrttttt,"_ he heard.

Clenching his fists, he smiled forcibly, asking in a strained voice, "Yes, Wesley?"

"Can you get David and Blainey Bear for me?" He asked, standing up on his knees to gaze over at him. Internal snort_. Blainey Bear, Wes, really?  
><em>

It would also seem that Wes was far less inhibited when ill, flopping around in his bed in the most undignified manner, even when others were around.

"I'll get David and Blainey Be- Blaine for you."

"Yay!" Wes flailed and fell back on the bed, getting a laugh out of him.

He quickly sent off a text to the two.

_Kurt: You want to come over? Wes' been asking for you._

**David: On my way.**

**_Blaine: C u soon._**

True to their word, the pair arrived a few minutes after, settling down on the boy's bed.

"You feeling better, Wes?"

He made a face. "No, I still have a headache, my throat hurts, and Kurt won't let me leave the room," he griped.

David was clearly stifling a smile. "I'm sure Kurt knows best."

"Do what he says, Wes. Wouldn't want you getting any sicker than you already are," Blaine chimed in, catching Kurt's eye and throwing a wink at him.

Wes made a small noise of discontent and threw himself back on his sheets, refusing to look at them.

"Weeeesssss," David called lightly, "guess what I brought for you."

He peeked over at him, craning to see what he was hiding behind his back. "My gavel?"

"Nope," he said, clearly enjoying this, "guess again."

"Just tell me what it is already," he groused. David just shook his head before bringing out a freshly bought pack of Redvines. Wes gave a slight involuntary squeal and began to bounce up and down.

_Note to self: Wes also reverts to an almost childlike state when sick. Bring out video camera next visit._

"Now Wesley," David cautioned, "don't eat them all at once like last time or-" he was cut off by Wes _pouncing _on him, effectively stealing the candy and cradling it protectively to his chest.

He made a dismissive hand motion. "You can leave now."

"But-" Blaine started.

"LEAVE." They did, shaking their heads sadly as they exited.

"What was that?" Kurt asked once the door was closed.

Wes was already munching away at the Redvines.

He swallowed suddenly, asking, "Kuuurrrtttt?"

_Must. not. kill._

"Yes?"

"Can I have some Ginger Ale?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "The fridge is right there, Wes. You can just lean over and get some."

"I don't want to."

_He's sick, Kurt, remember, he isn't usually this frustrating._

"Fine." He got him the Ginger Ale, something he'd only recently stocked his fridge with.

Blessed silence for a while.

Then-"Kuuuurrrrttttt?"

"What now?"

A slight pause.

"Can I have a straw?"

_Mind, snapping._

"No, Wes you can't have a straw. Deal with it."

"You're mean," he grumbled, scowling across the room at him.

"Yes, Wesley, I'm _such _a cruel and heartless person. Too bad for you, you're stuck with me. Now please be quiet."

He stuck his tongue out at him, but complied for an hour or so.

* * *

><p>"Kuuuurrrrttt?"<p>

He sighed. _All good things must come to an end_, _I suppose._

"Yes?"

"I'm bored."

Kurt was about to suggest another book when an idea struck him.

"Wait just one second, Wes. I've got a few calls to make."

Twenty minutes later, and the room was full to the brim with teenage boys, all participating in some sort of video game competition. Despite the slight noise level, Wes actually looked like he was having fun, joking around lightly with the others . It almost made the mess Kurt knew he would have to deal with later worth it.

"Hey Kurt," two voices said from behind where he was standing in the doorway. He looked back to see Jeff and Nick, grinning at him openly.

He raised an eyebrow as they began to talk, finishing off each other's sentences.

"We've noticed-"

"You've taken _quite _the interest-"

"In our dear Council member's-"

"Welfare as of late."

"Care-"

"To explain?"

He just smirked as finished, watching him expectantly.

"You two would give Fred and George Weasley a run for their money," he teased. The two puffed up in pride, preening a bit at what they took to be a compliment.

"To answer your question, two reasons: One, It's rather amusing to see him flustered, and two, it also happens to be rather adorable. And shamelessly teasing him one moment and taking care of him while he's sick the next gets him flustered."

He contemplated for a moment. "You also have to consider that so long as he's confused, he's less likely to bear down on us. There's a small amount of actual concern mixed in there somewhere, too."

The two applauded him. "Well, well, Kurtsie," Jeff stated.

"It would seem that we've underestimated you."

"We wish you the best of luck," Nick stated, bowing with a flourish before moving back inside.

* * *

><p>An hour later, and Kurt had somehow managed to herd everyone out with limited fuss. With a twist of the mouth he surveyed the room, taking in any damage that'd been done. Not too bad, surprisingly. He shuffled everything back into place,s topping at the last thing to be moved:Wes.<p>

He was folded up into a small ball in one of the gamer chairs the boys had brought, head hanging limp.

With a quiet exhale, Kurt picked him up, carrying him gently in his arms to the bed, before shifting the covers on top of him.

"Night, Wesley," he murmured before settling in his own bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

**Not a fan of this ending.**

Reminds me too much of the one back in chapter 5.

I do think this one came out than the last one. (Hmmm? Hmm?)

And, because you seemed to like them, I fit in some Jeff and Nick there. Fun.

Two. Chapters. In. One. Day. Gah. Do you realize what you guys are doing to me? I never used to be this dedicated when writing stories... Now I have 7 chapters out in 7 days, whereas it used to be 2 chapters in 3 months.

Thank you all for so many kind and wonderful reviews- they keep me updating(that, and the need for _more _reviews).

Glee is NOT MINE.

Review, please!

-Mel


	8. Chapter 8

Things had changed, Wes mused as he absentmindedly stared at the far wall, things had changed, if only slightly. He'd kept fairly quiet for a few days after the get-together(if it could be called that) Kurt had arranged on his behalf, a sort of way for him to know that Wes appreciated what he had done for him.

That didn't stop, though, from growing bored again quickly, left alone lying in bed with nothing to do until the students were dismissed from class. Even then, the few people that visited him regularly often couldn't come until late in the afternoon due to Warbler practice.

David had assured him that no, things _weren't _going to the dogs in his absence, amazingly enough, as Thad(the oldest in the Council), had taken his place by vote, Blaine filling in Thad's seat. Wes was _somewhat_ relieved to know that all his hard work this year hadn't been undone, but...

The mere thought of someone else, of _Thad_, holding his gavel, using it, set his teeth grinding in anguish.

David's visit had set him on edge, his temper barely appeased when Kurt had come in, bringing dozens of movies from home for him to watch after finishing off the homework(which Kurt brought him faithfully each day so he could keep up) and throughout the school day.

Not that Kurt wasn't getting anything out of this particular act of kindness.

He spotted _quite a few_ Disney and Broadway movies mixed with the action/horror movies _he _favored, undoubtedly meant for the evening when they were both in their room.

Kurt had popped in _The Little Mermaid(_without consulting him, in that aggravating way of his), cheerfully stating that, as he put it, "Everybody loves a good animated classic."

He'd said nothing, merely drawing his blanket up around him sullenly as he watched the movie.

About halfway through, his more pessimistic side took hold, making him spout something he would never say in Kurt's presence otherwise for fear of death by Bitch Glare.

Maybe it was his being ill. Maybe it was his earlier mood making a rebound.

Either way, before he could think to stop himself, he was saying, in a voice he _knew _would piss Kurt off, "God, why is it that all Disney romances are so horribly cliche and predictable?"

Silence.

_Shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiitttt-_

Kurt, still not facing him, slowly picked up the remote and paused the movie.

_So dead. So, so utterly dead._

He turned, giving Wes a glimpse of his expression.

_Yep, I'm screwed._

The tongue lashing that followed was so horrible, so fearsome, so _agonizing, _only three words could possibly could come close to describing it. And those three had already been used in the previous sentence.

Nonetheless, Wes managed to hold his own, actually retaliating to Kurt's ferocious devotion to Disney with some considerable points of his own.

At the end, though, Kurt gave a slight concede, telling a happily smug Wes sourly, "Shut the hell up and freaking enjoy the movie, Hughes."

* * *

><p>After that, though, things began to change. Rather than merely mocking and insulting each other, they had begun to actually <em>discuss <em>things.

And if these discussions came to be a bit, erm, _heated_(to the point of shouting), well, they were both _far _too _mature _to ever sink so low as to _bicker(_which was just another word, really, for what they did).

Starting with the movies they watched, they moved on to books, recent issues and celebrities, etc.

Of course, there were some matters that they actually agreed on-(they both _despised _Twilight)-but they found agreeing, rather, well,..._boring(_not that either would ever admit it).

So they wordlessly moved on from such topics, choosing instead to pursue objects of conversations that they(much more interestingly) disagreed over.

In this way, no matter how much they denied it, they both came to begin to see things in a new perspective.

Kurt, himself, (much to his chagrin) realized a week or so after Wes was able to return to his classes on a daily basis that he all the more often found himself studying the relationships between people with a more critical eye, able to see some of the more..._unpleasant _aspects of them.

His English grade was beginning to rise(more than likely due to his better Reading Comprehension skills), but he couldn't help but miss the rose-colored glasses he used to wear. As they so truthfully said, _Ignorance is bliss._

And _Wes, _he somewhat triumphantly noticed, hadn't gone unchanged either.

It wasn't a rare occurrence nowadays for Kurt to see this, in the way he wielded the power of the gavel a bit less over-bearingly, the way he seemed to speak just a _bit _less disdainfully to the younger Warblers.

Not that their arguments grew any less fervent, no, not in the least.

_And thank GaGa for that._

* * *

><p>"We're going to need to start preparing for Regionals soon," he announced, spearing his egg decisively. The others around him groaned, knowing what this meant-all except Kurt, who merely stared at him in disbelief.<p>

_"_For God's sakes, Wesley. Sectionals were _yesterday. _Unless it's your _intention _to work us to death, I would suggest you let us actually freaking enjoy how well we did before going all slave-driver on our asses."

He narrowed his eyes at the countertenor. "Just because _some _of us," he gave him a pointed stare, "don't seem to care about our chance of moving on to New York, it doesn't mean you have to inflict the rest of us with such an attitude."

"Better than _your _attitude," Kurt replied loftily, "what with you trying to turn us into a gay Vocal Adrenaline."

He actually stopped and shuddered at the idea.

"Yeah, Wes," Jeff and Nick chimed in.

"We may be prep school boys-"

"Living in gay Hogwarts-"

"But we're not-"

"Most definitely not-"

"Mindless drones."

They high-fived each other, only made worse by Kurt giving them an all-too-obvious thumbs up.

"Don't encourage them." He growled.

Kurt just smirked at him. "I don't know, Wes. It seems rather fitting. Consider: If we're the drones..."

He trailed off purposely for a moment, leering slightly at him.

Jeff and Nick seemed to catch on a moment before he said it, erupting into fits of laughter..

"That makes you the queen!"

_Too...Many...Witnesses..._

He smiled innocently, tilting his head before answering. "All I need is the tiara, then. Could I borrow one of yours?"

_Zing.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Once again: Fail whale ending.<strong>

Oh. my. freaking. God.*dies*

Someone actually liked my story enough that they reviewed each of the chapters. _Every freaking one._ *dies happy*

So, a HUGE thanks to _Kluddle, _for the many nice things she's said that I probably don't deserve.*Applauds*

Ahem. Anyway, not as much action in this, more speculation. And Kurt POV, which I have been featuring much more often since someone told me it was a refreshing change.

I've been denying you any Wert(Or Kures, as it's been called) cuddles, lately, I know, and I apologize. Working on it.

Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers!

-Mel


	9. Chapter 9

Really, Wes had always known Blaine to be the confident type, sure in himself and his beliefs in every this new development had him honestly asking himself: When the hell had Blaine become so _bold?_

Kurt's influence, no doubt.

Here was Blaine, just standing up in Warbler practice and stating for all to hear that he was in freaking _love, _as if there was no possible way that he might misinterpret his own feelings.

Considering that he was talking about Kurt, though, he wouldn't be completely surprised if Blaine _was _in love with him.

Who else could he be talking about? For God's sake, it was pathetic the way he mooned after Kurt, always the first to laugh at his jokes(no matter how terrible), always initiating some sort of physical contact when sitting by him.

It was all too obvious to those around him that he was infatuated with Kurt in the most sickeningly sweet way.

Suddenly, Wes found himself staring in the face of Kurt and Blaine's future, laid out clearly for him to unwillingly watch.

Blaine would serenade Kurt, Kurt would giggle and blush and admit he loved Blaine too, they'd kiss and start dating, as expected. They'd turn into one of those revoltingly lovey-dovey couples that you only saw on TV, making everyone around them want to puke rainbows at the pure cheesiness of the couple.

A year or so later, both of them with fresh high school diplomas, they'd move into an apartment together in New York, inflicting even more of the world with the cotton candy fluff that their relationship was made of.

Marriage after a while, a proper house, a dog, a few cats, a fish they'd name Klaine, whatever. They'd have kids...

Good God. They'd have _kids._

Kids that would undoubtedly inherit Blaine's unmanageable hair and Kurt's ability to annoy the hell out of him and _Wes _would be the one stuck taking care of them when their parents went out of town because he just _knew _Kurt would insist on naming him godfather because Kurt _always _have the last laugh, always, and...

His approaching panic attack was thankfully stopped by a quick elbow in the ribs from David, who was staring at him. Along with the rest of the Warblers.

And there was Kurt himself, frowning at him as he gave an almost uninterpretable head shake.

_WTF?_

Avoiding the strange looks he was being given, he forced the meeting along, listening to Blaine's rather..._unorthodox _request.

Really, if he was going to serenade Kurt, why not do it on Dalton's grounds, in Blaine's dorm room(there were _not _going to be any make-out sessions on his bed. No, no, _no._)?

And then came the bombshell.

Because, apparently(his mind was still processing this), Blaine was _not _serenading Kurt. He was actually serenading some random employee from the Gap who he'd _never heard mentioned before._

Never. And he was close to Blaine.

Not as close as Kurt, though, who also looked surprised. Wes felt his jaw drop as he analyzed the boy's expression.

_Because he was happy._ Happy, it would seem, that Blaine had found someone.

He(Wes) looked at Blaine. Who was looking at Kurt with the most _peculiar look _on his face-

Oh my God. Oh my_ freaking_ God. Hello, prolonged headache.

Blaine was trying to make Kurt _jealous_. He didn't _really _care about Gap guy, he just wanted to see if Kurt cared about _him.  
><em>

And here Kurt didn't look in the least bit devastated. Not like his soul had been crushed, not like his very heart had been shredded, he looked...

Well, certainly not as sad as Wes imagined Blaine wanted him to be.

"The Gap, Blaine, really? And here I thought you had better taste than that. I'm ashamed of you, Blaine, _ashamed." _A teasing smile flitted across his lips._  
><em>

And yes, his face did deflate a bit for a moment there, confirming Wes' suspicions before the constant smile he wore popped back up.

When did life get to be so, so..._complicated?_

* * *

><p>"You alright there, Blaine?" Kurt asked on the way to their performance.<p>

He put on a brave face from the seat behind Wes, saying shortly, "Fine," before stubbornly turning to face the window.

Kurt leaned forward, resting his forearms on the back of their seat before questioning him and David quietly, "What's going on with him?"

"Just nervous, I imagine," David glanced down awkwardly, coughing before spitting out the quick lie.

Wes refrained from saying anything, afraid if he did he wouldn't be able to resist telling him the truth.

He had to admit, no-one deserved this sort of drama, even someone like Kurt who _thrived _on drama.

The song ran smoothly, ignoring the looks Blaine was sending Kurt throughout the entire performance, even as he supposedly serenaded the Gap guy. Kurt, oblivious as ever, just sang along, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards at some of the more..._risque _lyrics.

Blaine was rejected afterwards, as was expected, and went off to sulk somewhere in one of the stores over his failed attempt to gain Kurt's attention.

The countertenor himself was currently chatting away with Flint on one of the mall benches, laughing easily with him as they talked animatedly. The rest of the Warblers were scattered sparsely about the building.

"It's creepy," Wes stated to David as they shuffled through the aisles of Barne's and Noble, "how Blaine stares at Kurt _all the freaking time_ and he doesn't notice."

David snorted at that, drawing his gaze to him.

"What?"

"Funny," he muttered in a low voice, "that you rant about _Blaine _stalking Kurt when you do the same thing."

Wes' mouth dropped open in horror.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do, and it's made all the more scary by the fact that you claim to be straight." He picked up a book and glanced at the book before setting it on the shelf.

"I _am _straight," he retorted, "and I can't help it if Hummel requires constant supervision, what with the way he attracts trouble."

"Mmm-hmmmm," was all he got in response.

**Not too much funny dialogue/thoughts here, sadly enough.**

There. Now I have tied this in with the canon timeline, okay? Be happy.

I'm rather fond of Wes' internal rant at the beginning of this chapter. :)

So many reviews! You spoil me.

Blaine just got _rejected. _By two different people at once. Double burn.

Glee is NOT MINE.

Review and make me happy. Please. Feel free to point out any typos, or errors in this. I keep expectin gsomeone to tell me that I'm making the characters OOC.

-Mel


	10. Chapter 10

"Warblers," Wes announced, broadcasting his voice to be heard over the faint rumblings of thunder in the distance, "I believe I speak for all of us when I say that our performance at the Gap was, unfortunately, a disaster of major proportions. Never since the year of 1918 has such an embarrassment occurred."

He could see Kurt rolling his eyes at that, mouthing the words _"Prima donna" _at him. Next to him, Blaine didn't respond to the words, in an almost depression-like state.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, the huge clap of thunder that followed making everyone flinch.

"Wes," David murmured worriedly, "maybe we should-"

The lights flickered, once, twice, before shutting off completely, shrouding the room in utter darkness.

Chaos, utter chaos. Those who had been standing off were sent stumbling in a panicked frenzy, everyone's voice rising in a primal, ancient fear of their total vulnerability in their blindness.

"Guys," That called in a desperate attempt to settle them, "guys!"

Wes ran his hands over his gavel, trying to avoid screaming at the massive headache he knew he would have by the time all the Warblers had calmed down.

"SILENCE!" Thad screeched. "I KEEL YOU!"

Well.

It was always the quiet ones, wasn't it?

"Thad," he growled, "as well as that worked..." he paused, "do so again and I'll _personally _make sure you wake up in a body bag tomorrow. _If_ you wake up at all."

The room was now, finally, quiet.

"Warblers," David said, "this is not the first time this has occurred, as some of you may know. Flashlights are kept in the supply closet."

Ah, good old David. Rational, even when the rest of the world was slowly falling into insanity, Wes included.

The Warblers rushed to grab flashlights, sighing in relief when the first one was turned on, giving them some sense of direction.

Thad appeared, sitting back down as he fumbled with three of the devices, wordlessly handing Wes and David one each.

"We'll have to hold out until the lights come back on, " Wes said as he slid the switch up, "or until the morning, if the lines aren't fixed until later. Games-" Kurt snickered at the word, "-are in the same closet as the flashlights, be sure to clean up once you're finished."

Slowly, the Warblers began to relax, kicking off their shoes and socks as they played and talked, blazers tossed on the leather couches as they clustered on the and Nick had already begun telling ghost stories, the faces around them a Kurt-worthy pale.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, and the lights showed no signs of turning back on. With a sigh, Wes stood up from his spot on the floor, and stretched his back muscles, feeling the vertebrae crack satisfyingly.<p>

"Warblers!" he stated in a loud voice. Many pairs of eyes turned towards him, waiting expectantly.

"It would seem we're spending the night here. Put the supplies back in the closet, and get sleeping bags. There should be enough for everyone, and if not, there are also blankets that can be used."

As it turned out, there weren't enough sleeping bags. Kurt, Jeff, and Flint were left with blankets once the scuffle around the closet was over. Jeff immediately crawled into Nick's sleeping bag, ignoring the protests of the Council.

Grumbling at the early time(10:00), everyone slowly fell asleep, spread throughout the room. Thad,who had oddly enough had taken residence _on top of _the Council's long desk, was out nearly immediately, snoring softly.

Blaine, situated on one of the couches, was next, not nearly so quiet as Thad in his noisy exhales, much to Kurt's amusement, who was stationed on the floor next to Jeff and Nick, both of whom were now asleep.

One by one, the Warblers fell asleep. Wes, one of the last still awake, closed his eyes from his place on the other couch, falling deep into slumber.

* * *

><p>He was woken, an hour or so later, by a sharp poke in the ribs and the rapidly whispered words of, "Wes! Wake up!"<p>

Groggy, he rolled over, facing the speaker-Kurt(of course).

"Wha-"

"Shhh..." He muttered, pressing a finger to his lips.

"Why'd you wake me up?" He said angrily.

"I got cold."

"..." It was too early for this. Far too early for him to dredge up his usual urge to kill Kurt.

Kurt _was _one of the only two who only had blankets, he supposed. And God knew Flint was like a space heater. That didn't give him the liberty to wake Wes up from a perfectly good sleep, though.

He needed his beauty sleep, Goddammit.

"And?"

"You have a sleeping bag." What-no. No, no, no. He was _not _sharing a sleeping bag with Kurt. He was _not._

"Ask Blaine, not me!"

"I can barely ignore his snores from _this _distance. There's no room with Jeff and Nick, Flint takes up all the space in his bag, asking David would be just _too _awkward, and I don't trust any of the others."

The universe hated him, it really did.

"Deal with it." he said harshly before flipping back over. _This _was what happened when his sleep was interrupted.

He tried to fall back asleep. Tried and failed, because he could _hear _Kurt shivering and shifting down there on the floor beside him and _he_ _couldn't fall back asleep with him right there and he _needed _his sleep, dammit, and_-

"For God's sake, get up here. And _no cuddling _me in your sleep, or so help me Kurt-"

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you-!" Babbling slightly, he crawled up, wiggling into Wes' sleeping bag next to him.

And yes, this was just as awkward as he knew it would be.

"So cold," Kurt mumbled, and before he could register it, Kurt had an arm wrapped around his waist, bare feet pressing against his, face buried in the back of Wes' neck.

He felt a shiver pass through him because, God, Kurt was _right there, _pressed up against him, and he _couldn't think _right then.

He regained his senses and pulled Kurt's hand away, hissing angrily at him, "_No. Cuddling. _Face the other way."

"But you're _so warm,_" he whined, but thankfully obeyed. Sneakily, he snaked his feet back, linking the cold flesh of his ankles with Wes'.

"Kurt," he warned.

"I'm facing the other way!"

* * *

><p>The next morning, they'd wake up in their previous position, Kurt spooning Wes and there'd be a big fuss("I <em>told you <em>no cuddling!") and Blaine would be glaring at Wes possessively, but for right now, they could deal with being in the same sleeping bag, deal with being closer to each other than ever before, because, hey, like Kurt said, it wasn't like he could stay with anyone else, right?

Of course, Kurt had neglected to tell Wes that Blaine had stopped snoring a good forty-five minutes ago, and Wes hadn't noticed, so why get him angry for no reason?

Right?

**I'm actually reaallllyyyy happy with this ending. :)**

This is one of my favorite chapters so far. This took place somewhere in Comeback, since neither Kurt or the Warblers featured in it.

To make up for the lack of Kures/Wert cuddles lately, just picture that sleeping bag scene. It should give you more than enough cavities. XD

Again, a huge thanks to _Kluddle, _who's been insanely nice to me. I only keep dragging her up in my ANs because she has the PM feature turned off, so sorry to everyone who's getting tired of hearing about her in all her awesome-sauce glory.

My dearest apologies.

Next chapter... We shall have some realizations of the boys' feelings, as several people have been begging for.

Yayaz.

Check out this amazing comic link about Wes: .com/art/The-Warblers-Wes-192002815?q=favby%3AMel32-32&qo=0

Simply amazing. And hilarious, at that.

Glee is NOT MINE.

Reviews are love!

-Mel


	11. Chapter 11

It was never a good sign when Kurt asked him to do anything remotely connected to his McKinley friends. Never.

"Soooo, Wesley," he drawled, dragging himself up to lie next to him on his bed.

"Yes?" He answered in a bored tone, not looking up from his geography textbook.

"It would seem, dearest Wesley," he stated, propping his chin on his hands, "that Rachel is holding a party."

"A party," he echoed, not really paying attention.

"Yes, surprisingly enough,a party. And I was wondering..."

"Hmm?"

"Ifyou'dbewillingtogowithmeandBlaine," he spit out, staring determinedly at the bed cover.

Wes tore his gaze from the book, raising an eyebrow at him skeptically. "Come again?"

Kurt almost seemed to wince at the question.

"I've already called and asked Blaine, and he agreed. I'm worried he's planning to get drunk, so I was hoping you might be willing to come along, just in case it does come to that," he explained.

He considered. He'd met the New Directions group on several occasions, and wasn't quite sure he could deal with the intoxicated insanity sure to occur, but...

As he and David had discovered a year ago, Blaine was a clumsy drunk. A clumsy, loose-tongued, hilarious drunk that didn't resemble the put-together, usual dapper Blaine _in the slightest._

This could be the perfect chance to catch his drunken ramblings on video, a prospect he couldn't resist.

"All right," he sighed, burying his nose back in his book. He desperately tried to ignore the avid squealing that was being done directly in his ear to no avail.

"Thank you!" Kurt gasped, face flushed a delicate red. Not that Wes bothered to notice, of course.

* * *

><p>"Well, this is a drag," Wes said under his breath at the state of the place.<p>

Kurt elbowed him. "Just because it isn't up to your standards, Wesley..."

"Actually, he's right," Blaine stated from Kurt's other side.

Blaine was agreeing? With _him? _

Sad as it was, Blaine had become all the more increasingly bad-tempered as of late, snapping at everyone, especially Wes. He had even attempted to do so to Kurt, only to be stopped short by a hard slap to his cheek that had lhe eft a red mark for _days _afterwards.

Now he merely stuck to quiet grumbling, eying Wes murderously.

Yet another wonderful aspect of the existence of Kurt Hummel in his life:Ruins closest friendships. Lovely.

"This party really does suck," Blaine was saying, to be received with a glare from Kurt.

"This is her first proper party," he said defensively.

"Not what most teenagers would define as proper," Blaine muttered.

That's when Puck brought in the _real _alcohol from the liquor cabinet.

A half hour later, and Wes was quite happy with the footage he'd obtained with the camera on his cell phone, and with the knowledge that there was more to come, judging from the way Blaine was throwing himself about.

The party was..._interesting, _he'd leave it at that. He, Finn and Kurt, the only ones _not _drunk out of their minds, stood by themselves off to the side, talking over the volume of the music.

"You're, like, Kurt's roommate, right?" Finn asked him.

"Unfortunately," he called back. And _there _was Kurt's elbows in his ribs for the second time that night.

"When'd you get so _freaking violent?_" he complained, rubbing his aching sides. Kurt just gave him a look before turning to speak with Finn, who, Wes had learned earlier, was his step-brother.

Over came Blaine, draping himself across Finn as he _leered _at Kurt. Finn seemed to notice this as well, struggling to untangle Blaine's hands from his shoulders.

Blaine rambled something about brothers obliviously before staggering off, only to fall, giggling hysterically, onto the floor.

And yes, Wes was still getting all this on his camera.

Finn went to join Rachel, leaving the two of them standing there in awkward silence.

"I never would have thought Blaine would ever let himself become such a mess in public, " Kurt said, sporting an amused grin.

He snickered at that. "You should see him without his hair gel, then. It's terrifying."

"Who wants to play spin the bottle!" Rachel was calling, bottle in hand as she stood up on the makeshift stage.

Kurt grimaced. "Think we should go?"

"Probably," he stated, slowly nodding his head, "to make sure Blaine doesn't molest your step-brother, if anything."

Kurt choked at that, snorting loudly as they took their places in the circle.

The game went round and round, nearly all of the contestants paired off at some point or another.

Wes, much to his own relief, had only been landed on once, forcing him to press a quick peck to the lips of a girl Kurt had labelled Mercedes, who was currently chuckling away absentmindedly, eyes glazed.

Kurt hadn't been kissed yet, though seeming to prefer it that way.

And then it happened. Blaine, in all his drunken glory, began making out with Rachel, and loudly.

Kurt looked, well, rather disgusted at the sight. "And here I thought Blaine was gay," he muttered, leaning over to speak directly in his ear.

"So did I," he stated, making a face.

Finally, finally, they pulled away, Rachel staring after Blaine in a daze.

"Your face...tastes awesome," she said, clearly awestruck. Kurt rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly.

Kurt wasn't the only one annoyed by the whole fiasco, from the glares Finn was sending Blaine.

Grinning deliriously, Blaine spun the bottle, only for it to land on himself.

Catcalls and whistles, along with, "You're getting lucky to-night, Blaine Warbler!"

He spun again, only for it to land...

...on Kurt.

The above mentioned boy instantly paled, almost seeming to shrink in on himself.

"No," Finn said loudly, ignored by the others.

"You don't have to do this," Wes whispered to him, noting the panicked look that had dawned on his features, "Kurt-"

Blaine, not having noticed Kurt's reluctance, was looking at him in _that way _again,that almost predatory way that made Wes want to punch him. Cocking his head, Blaine leaned forward, quickly capturing Kurt's lips with his own.

Wes was freaking _pissed._ Blaine was _assaulting _Kurt with his lips. He, was clearly trying to move away, caught by Blaine's hands, one around his neck, the other forcefully cupping his face.

Both he and Finn moved at the same time, shoving the two apart. Blaine went tumbling backwards, smiling to himself.

Kurt...Kurt had the most _terrified _expression on his face, one hand pressed to his mouth. A small whimper escaped him, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Wes was going to _kill _Blaine, who didn't look the least bit remorseful in what he'd done.

That is, if Finn didn't get to him first. With a lunge, the huge boy tackled Blaine, fist snapping forward to meet his skull.

Instantly aware, the others backed off, only Artie moving forward to separate the two. Blaine was already out, eyes rolled back in his skull as Finn pounded on him.

Turning his attention back to Kurt, he hesitantly reached a hand out.

"...Kurt?" He asked quietly, the way he would speak to a frightened animal.

He shook his head, avoiding Wes' eyes. "Can we...can we go now?" His voice trembled slightly as he wiped at his eyes, clearly trying not to cry.

Barely suppressing the pure rage rising up inside him, he nodded, gently pulling him up to a standing position.

"Keys?" He questioned. He handed them to him wordlessly, still keeping his eyes away from Wes' face.

He walked over to Finn, who was currently sitting by himself, knuckles smeared with blood.

"I'm taking Kurt back to Dalton. I figure the last thing he needs is to be interrogated by his parents," he said, drawing Finn's attention,"so if you could, you know, see if anyone would let him crash at their house, I'd appreciate it."

"Yeah," he said, staring off, "I'm pretty sure I'd kill him in his sleep if he stayed at ours. What should I tell the 'rents?"

Wes shook his head. "I'd let Kurt tell them what happened when he's comfortable. Just say that he decided it was too dark to drive back when he dropped me off, okay?"

He nodded again, twisting his fingers as he glared at the still form of Blaine.

"Thanks," he grumbled. He figured that was the best response he was going to get out of the tall boy.

Placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder, he guided him outside, and into the car.

* * *

><p>God, he really hated these awkward silences. It was made all the worse by what had just happened, looming in the air like a black cloud.<p>

Kurt had curled up in the passenger seat, drawing his knees up to his chest as he stared out the window.

"...You know that guy, Karofsky?" He asked suddenly.

Wes glanced over at him fro a moment. Yes, he remembered. The jock, Blaine had told him, that had driven Kurt so heartlessly from McKinley. He gave a small nod in affirmation.

"I stood up to him," he said quietly,"I stood up to him like Blaine told me to, right after we first met."

And _there _was that urge to throttle him again. _Very _smart, Blaine, tell him to stand up to the jock that's more than likely twice his size.

"I chased him down into the locker room," Kurt continued, "and he, he kissed me. A week later, h-he told me he'd kill me if I told anyone." He swallowed hard at that. "I told Blaine."

The full horror of those statements dawned on Wes after a few seconds.

Good God, just how much had Kurt _dealt with _in life?

His mind caught up to that second sentence and what it revealed.

Blaine _knew. _Blaine _knew _that the jock had forced a kiss on him and had done the same damn thing anyway.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to resist the urge to hit something.

Preferably Blaine's face.

But Kurt didn't need him flying into a rage right now. Kurt, who looked as if he was seconds from bursting into hysterics.

Not saying anything, Wes pulled into a random parking lot, stopping the car as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

He held out his arms. "Come here."

"What?" Kurt was staring at him as if he'd grown another head, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Come. Here. I'm not going to ask again, you know."

Suddenly seeming to understand, Kurt slithered over, placing himself gingerly in his lap before burying his face in Wes' shoulder, arms wound tight enough around him to cut off circulation.

Within a few moments he was sobbing, fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt in a near death grip. Wes just rubbed comforting circles in his back, not saying anything.

After only a few minutes, Kurt recovered, taking in a deep, shaky breath as he pried himself of him. "Thank you," he whispered, looking embarrassed at his own outburst. Shuddering, he moved back to his own seat, moving back to his original position.

Wes started the car again, still silent as they drove back onto the main road.

* * *

><p>A good thirty minutes away from Dalton, and Wes found himself getting distracted. Looking over, he found himself studying Kurt: the pink cheeks, slightly red-rimmed eyes, ruffled hair. Faint light filtered in through the window, slanting across his face.<p>

_Beautiful._

Wes blinked at the word that entered his mind, surprised, because, honestly, he'd only ever used _that _word to describe females. But it fitted Kurt right at that moment.

And then it hit him, like a ton of bricks.

He'd only ever heard one other person describe Kurt as beautiful. Blaine, just after meeting the brunette.

Blaine, who despite having hurt Kurt, was completely enamored with him. Blaine, who was constantly looking at Kurt like he was the only person in the room.

_Fuck. _If the previous realization had been a ton of bricks, this one was a freaking heavy-duty monster truck, smacking him right in the face.

He _liked _Kurt. Liked him in an utterly non-platonic way. He annoyed the hell out of Wes, but he found himself attracted to Kurt anyway.

His life was so totally _screwed to hell._

"Wes?" And there was Kurt himself, watching him worriedly.

And it occurred to him just how _inappropriate _those feelings were right now, right when he had just been scared out of his _freaking mind, _and was only just beginning to calm down.

This was not good. This was not good at all.

Giving him a reassuring smile, he forced himself to settle, to put aside his thoughts for right now because, Goddammit, Kurt needed him right now.

He could wait, no matter how long it took, to address his feelings.

* * *

><p>He'd gotten Kurt changed and sleeping in his bed, face peaceful for the first time since the incident when he himself had fallen asleep, pure exhaustion alone bringing him into slumber.<p>

Screaming. Frantic, high pitched screaming. Instantly fully awake, he sat up, looking over to see Kurt writhing in his bed, clawing desperately at the air.

He leaped over, shaking him in a desperate attempt to wake the boy up. "Kurt, come on, Kurt! You're okay, you're at Dalton, wake up!"

Kurt stilled against the sheets, eyes flitting open for a second before he recognized Wes, pressing his face into his collarbone, wrapping himself around him.  
>His heart broke there, at that.<p>

They fell asleep that way, tangled together.

* * *

><p>Blaine swallowed hard, hesitantly knocking on the door before tentatively stepping in, only to move back at the sight that met his eyes.<p>

Wes' eyes opened, taking in his appearance before scowling darkly at him. He squirmed out of Kurt's embrace, careful not to wake him up before walking over to him, softly shutting the door before turning to face him.

"Yes?" His tone was pure ice. Blaine's head throbbed, a sort of punishment for what he'd done.

"Can I talk to him?" He already knew the answer.

"No." A slight pause. "I _might _pass on a message."

He massaged his temples, wincing in pain. "I'm sorry. God, I'm fucking sorry."

Wes' face was impassive. "And?"

"I was drunk," he began, "and-" "That's no excuse," Wes interrupted, eyes glittering.

"I know."

Wes just stared at him, making him shift uncomfortably under his gaze before finally speaking.

"Do you have any idea what you did? Kurt _trusted _you, and you went and did the same _freaking thing _as the jock that chased him out of his home." His voice rose_._"You have no idea how tempted I am to kick you in the balls right now, but Kurt wouldn't like that, for whatever reason."

His expression was stony. "Do you even _care _that I woke up in the middle of the night to find Kurt screaming in terror, in the middle of a nightmare?"

He swallowed hard at that, regret clawing at his chest."I really screwed everything up, didn't I?"

Wes nodded at that. "You did."

"I'm sorry," he offered.

"You should be."

What else was there to be said? It was a lost cause. Sighing, he turned and walked away, Wes' eyes boring holes in his back.

* * *

><p>Making a face, Wes walked back to the bed, sitting beside Kurt's sleeping form. He combed his fingers through his usually immaculate hair, lips tilting upwards at the small, sleepy sound of contentment he made as he nuzzled up into Wes' hand.<p>

And maybe Wes did smile at that, just a bit.

**Where did this angst come from?**

I started to write this, thinking it would turn out totally fluffy like the rest of the chapters, and THIS happened.

So angsty...

Still, Wes realized he like Kurt, so it was worth it! And, this is my longest chapter so far, about 3,000 words!

Here's to hoping that this didn't make you hate Blaine. :/ Let's just say he's only an asshole when he's drunk, 'kay?

Hope you enjoyed this! Glee is NOT MINE.

Reviews=Love.

-Mel


	12. Chapter 12

Wes woke up that morning to the sight of one Sue Sylvester standing above his bed, a nightmare that had haunted the dreams of many people.

No, Wes did not _scream. Screaming _was reserved for females. And Kurt. Wes merely _yelled in a panicked manner. _yes, that was what had happened, and don't you dare say otherwise.

"Nice set of pipes there, Asian Three," said the Coach Sylvester, peering down at him with eyes typically described as pits of nothingness. Nothingness and hatred. And to have those eyes staring down at you while in your bed...

...It was terrifying, to understate it in the frankest way possible.

"And here I thought the only male capable of going that high and _not _growing a vagina upon doing so was Porcelain over there," she continued.

Wes almost would have laughed at that, had he not been currently cowering into his sheets.

"Right here, Coach," a bleary voice called from the other side of the room. Wes looked over and yes, for once Kurt _was _awake without the assistance of his alarm clock, and was currently propped up on one elbow as he rubbed at his eyes with his other hand.

"Good. You, of all people, Porcelain, should know that I won't stand for slackers on the squad," she stated.

"One, I'm not on the squad anymore, as you know fully well and two, you're getting a bit sloppy with the nicknames there. Asian Three, Coach? Gavel Fanatic or Dictator would fit Wesley here better."

He paused. "Then again, that last one might be just a bit too complimentary, coming from you." He grinned evilly.

Wes felt his jaw drop. Anyone else would have found themselves disemboweled and strangled with their own small intestine had they said such a thing to the Coach, who Wes had heard more than enough stories about from Kurt to scar him for life. He couldn't even bring himself to be offended.

As it was, she merely chuckled, what might be described as a smile by someone who didn't know her better flitting across her face.

"Good to see you haven't lost what little wit you showcased in this soul-sucking place, Porcelain, the likes of which I haven't seen since I last visited the hospital for a dislocated jaw I'd obtained from yelling at my Cheerios. The mediocre doctors there _insisted _on an X-ray, and I caught a glimpse right then of my tiny, shrunken heart in the corner of the picture before I knocked out the doctor pressing my jaw back into place.

She stopped for a moment, staring off into the distance. "I might just make a permanent settlement here . The smell of broken and beaten souls is _intoxicating."_

Kurt looked _amused, _rather than horrified. "Mind explaining why you're here, Coach? Somehow I doubt you're just enjoying the scenery."

"Remember, Porcelain, patience is a virtue," she declared, rifling through the fridge. Kurt didn't say anything_, _despite the rough handling of his precious Diet Coke.

"Now," she said, twisting off the cap to one of the sodas with flex of her wrist, "to answer your question, Porcelain, I've come to warn your little Garglers."

_"_Warblers," Wes interrupted, met with a sharp glare.

_"_Quiet, Asian Three, I wasn't speaking to you." She turned back to Kurt.

"I've received information from my most reliable source that the New Directions are aiming for a 'Sexy' approach to Regionals."

Horror spread across his face.

"I had the same reaction," she said, nodding at him, "as it would appear that Schuester is determined to rehash his own previous mistakes. I've come to you because, as it is, you're the only one here I trust enough to destroy the New Directions adequately even as I stun the judges with my own glee club's stunning talent."

She quickly gulped down at least half th_e _bottle in one swallow. "I'm talking to _you, _Porcelain, because no matter how innocent and naive you may act, we're both fully aware that you can do sexy better than any of these half-wit Garglers you've graced with your presence, case-in-point your roommate."

Wearily, "All right Coach. I'll do my best."

"Good, Porcelain. You have my number if any of those prep-boys give you ay trouble." In an instant, she was gone, leaving nothing but an empty Diet Coke bottle in her absence.

A pregnant pause.

"Kurt?"

"Yes, Wes?"

"_Should _we do sexy?"

"Nah. I'll explain later, when it _isn't _three o'clock in the morning."

* * *

><p>It's a bad sign when Kurt comes storming into their room, swearing violently in French.<p>

He sighed. "What happened now?"

"_Blaine," _Kurt spat.

He glanced up quickly. "What'd he do?"

Of course, it was probably a good sign that he was angry, rather than curled up in a ball crying like before, but...

"I told him about the sexy thing," he fumed, pacing in circles, "and he seemed to take it as a confession of knowing _nothing _about sex, and took it upon himself to educate me!"

He snarled. "I _know _about sex! What with the Beth mess last year and Santana's crude jokes, I know more than I would ever want to! I'm not some naive little boy, for GaGa's sake!"

He flopped down onto his bed angrily.

Wes snorted.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," he said, rolling his eyes.

_"What?"_

"You _do _tend to act naive at times, Porcelain," he muttered, coining Coach Sylvester's nickname.

"I do not, Asian Three," he retaliated.

"Sure you don't."

* * *

><p>He <em>really <em>regretted it the next time he brought out his laptop, finding it open to a bunch of cheerleading videos.

And _no, _he did not all but drool watching them, and don't you _dare _say otherwise.

**Aaarggghhhh fail whale chapter in general.**

I honestly hate how this turned out. Not only is it amazingly short, it also has _no _plot whatsoever. I'm so sorry for this.

Hopefully my last chapter, easily my favorite, will make up for it.

Ngh.

Oh, and the link I posted some chapters got messed up, so: Got to Deviant Art . com (remove the spaces), and search "The Warblers: Wes" and it should come up under that exact title.

Again, so so sorry!

-Mel


	13. Chapter 13

For not the first time, Wes found himself stuck with the task of waking up Kurt when his alarm failed to do so. Usually, he was in the habit of merely pushing him off the bed, already fully dressed and ready so he could immediately avoid the aftermath.

But this morning, an idea struck him.

Taking advantage of Kurt's heavy slumber, he grabbed one of the numerous Diet Cokes in his fridge, hesitating only for a moment. Leaning over his sleeping form, Wes put the soda directly next to his before twisting the cap off, ensuring that he'd _have _to hear it, even if only in his sleep.

He hadn't, though, fully considered the outcome of such a drastic move, thinking he would merely wake up as always.

He was wrong.

In an instant Kurt was awake, taking only a moment to kick off the blankets covering his body before _tackling _Wes, wrapping his hands around his neck.

He stumbled backwards, the momentum of Kurt's leap sending him crashing down onto his own bed, Kurt on top of him.

He(Kurt) kneeled on his chest, weight pinning him against the mattress as he stared Wes straight in the eyes, face _inches _from his.

Had it not been for his fingers, slowly closing around Wes' windpipe, he would have found himself distracted by their proximity, especially with his face(lips) oh-so-close.

As it was, he couldn't think about anything but escape right then, struggling against his hold.

"Let me make one thing clear," Kurt hissed, breath brushing along Wes' jaw, "_you do not," _he pressed closer, forehead coming to rest against his, "mess with my Diet Coke. I will find you, I will kill you-" his hands tightened even further, "_I will eat your firstborn child. _Understood?"

Wes let out a strangled gasp, the only thing he could manage at the time.

Kurt blinked, seeming to properly see him for the first time.

He instantly released Wes, mouth falling open(_don't stare don't stare_) as he blushed.

"Oh." He quickly moved back, face turning tomato red as he eased his body off Wes'.

They just stared at each other for a moment, eyes wide at what had just occurred. The silence was broken, finally, by Wes sitting up, massaging his neck. "Remind me," he stated, "to buy you a new alarm clock as soon as possible."

* * *

><p>"Oh yeah!" Blaine burst into the room, tossing a pile of papers into the air dramatically as he sang.<p>

From across the table they'd been stationed at, Wes glanced at Kurt, who was currently making a distasteful face. He caught Wes' eye and, as he'd been doing all morning, tinged red.

_Awkward._

The moment was ruined by Blaine, tugging Kurt up from his seat. Tossing Wes a long-suffering smile, he went along with it, letting Blaine move in close as they made their way down the hallway. Some unknown emotion-_jealousy-_boiled in his gut, forcing him to look away from the two.

_God, _this was so freaking confusing, knowing that he liked Kurt, as he struggled with these _feelings _that came with it.

Ngh. This was _pathetic, _to put it bluntly, crushing after him like a little schoolgirl.

With an almost perfect timing, he was given the chance to beat his hands on the wooden tables they'd moved into the hall for convenient access, frustration throwing him into the rhythm a _bit _moreenthusiastically than necessary.

"At Regionals, you just heard our opening number," Blaine called to thunderous applause once the song had drawn to a close.

Wes weaved through the cluster of Warblers, making his way to Kurt's side, who stood off on the side.

"They're like sheep," Kurt said blankly, looking over at the circle that had formed around Blaine, "mindless sheep."

He let that sink in. "_Someone's _feeling contemplative today," he muttered, nudging him with his shoulder. A slight tilt of the lips told Wes that this was appreciated, and he felt himself relax.

"What's Blaine gone and done as of late to get you sulking?" He asked, raising one eyebrow.

Finally, Kurt turned, fully acknowledging him, crossing his arms over his chest, his trademark bitch face on."I don't _sulk, _Wesley, as you of all people should know. I think deeply, an idea that's unfamiliar to you, I'm sure."

He drew himself up, narrowing his eyes at Kurt."My thoughts, as I've stated multiple times, are of the most complex and analytical type. I simply refrain from voicing them in your presence for fear of making you mere mortals feel inadequate."

Kurt actually laughed at this. "When did you get to be so _sassy, _Wes? One would think you were PMS-ing, if they didn't know better."

He patted Wes' shoulder sympathetically. "It's alright, Wes, _I _know it's not your fault that you have multiple personality disorder, and we _will _work through this, I promise you." He pinched Wes' cheek playfully with one hand.

He swatted Kurt's hand away, scowling at him. He couldn't help but smile though, and began to snicker.

It suddenly occurred to him that the room had gone suspiciously quiet, and he looked away from Kurt for a second to see the whole of the Warblers staring at them. Ignoring the heat rising in his cheeks, he stepped away, coughing. David arched a brow at him, smirking slightly.

He glanced back up at Kurt to see him giving them a princess wave, smiling and tilting his head cheerfully. They seemed to get the hint, breaking off into groups and resuming their conversations, only occasionally peeking at the two.

"How _scandalous," _Kurt said, grinning at him, "Councilman Wes _actually having fun. _I do believe the world is ending."

Wes made a flicking motion in his direction, giving him a look. "Quiet, you."

* * *

><p>"Why don't we just play it on <em>kazoo?<em>" David asked sarcastically, throwing his hands up. The room was erupting into chaos, and Wes had to resist the urge to bang his gavel.

_So…tempting…_

Kurt was busy filing away at his nails, pointedly disregarding the discussion taking place around him.

"This is a Kangaroo Court!" One of the older Warblers, Jacob, threw out. _Really?_

The scene was interrupted by one Adam Tharsen, walking in looking near tears.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, interest suddenly sparked.

"It's Pavarotti," the Freshman whimpered, wringing his hands, "Pavarotti is dead!"

Ah yes, Pavarotti. Kurt had only gotten a few weeks with the bird, unfortunately for him, as a new member had arrived only a month or so after him.

"That sucks, man," Nick stated sympathetically.

Adam, poor soul, buried his face in his hands, beginning to sniffle. Kurt was up in a flash, taking him by the arm.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," he said kindly. Adam followed him obediently, making tiny noises of sadness as he was led out.

And uncomfortable silence followed their leaving.

"…Seems kind of petty, now, doesn't it?" Jeff spoke up.

Time to take charge. "Warbler practice dismissed!" He barked, banging the gavel. The Warblers scattered, grumbling discontentedly.

David hung behind, looking worried(as always).

"What now? Pavarotti was our mascot, the very embodiment of the group. The fact that he died days before Regionals is going to cause a stir," he stated, tactful as ever.

Wes sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. Buy a new bird, I suppose. It's happened before, I know that. All that canary bloodline hype is BS, and we both know it."

David stared at him. "Kurt really has rubbed off on you, hasn't he?" He said knowingly.

"Not the time, David. Not the time. We have a funeral to organize."

* * *

><p>Adam did get a new canary, and was told, as gently as possible, that he could name it. He unhappily stared at the bird before christening it "Wolfgang".<p>

Wes barley resisted the urge to point out that the name wasn't traditional, but hey; his bird had just died.

"Do either of you know where Kurt went off to?" He asked Jeff and Nick later in the day. He'd been gone for the last hour or so without a trace and Wes was beginning to get worried.

And no, he wasn't stalking Kurt; he was just acting like the concerned friend he was, worrying about him.

Yeah, _no._

The two shrugged. "Last we heard-"

"He was in-"

"The empty science classroom," Nick finished off. Thanking them, Wes strode off, brow furrowed at the answer he'd received.

Kurt was there, sitting at a table, surrounded by hundreds of glue-on beads and sequins. A bottle of tacky glue rested at his elbow, as he pondered over some hidden puzzle, twisting a small wooden box over in his hands.

He looked up, seeming to have sensed Wes' presence. He slumped slightly in his seat upon seeing him, letting out a huff of resignation.

"What are you doing?" He asked, regarding the box quizzically.

Kurt gestured him over, exhaling deeply. "Adam asked if I would decorate Pavarotti's casket, knowing my flare for design." He motioned to the table in frustration. "I can't come up with a fitting pattern."

Wes paused. He was in unfamiliar territory, having no real sense of style whatsoever.

"Can I help?" Kurt gave him a look. He glared in response.

He gave in, surprisingly enough. "Fine." He handed him the bottle of glue. "I've only got one part figured out, and it's fairly simple, but so help me, Wesley, if you screw this up you'll be the one explaining to Adam why his canary's casket is hideously decorated."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine."

Kurt relented. "All right. Just do a simple border, all along the edge, single file, only one row. Use," he held out two beads in example," black and blue, alternating every other bead."

Wes stuck his tongue out. "Honestly, Kurt, I'm not mentally challenged. It's fairly simple."

"Please, Wesley, _nothing _is simple with you. Now glue. Or I won't hesitate to throw my glitter at you."

"…Do you have any idea-"

"How gay that was? Of course I do, Wes. Now start gluing."

"So bossy…Ow! Shit, Kurt, that hurt!"

"Good. It was supposed to."

* * *

><p>Regionals: There was no ignoring it now, as they sat in the audience, waiting for the New Directions. Wes flexed his hands, worry flooding his systems.<p>

There was a slight tug on his arm. Kurt flickered eyes from Wes' hands up to his face, perfect deadpan in place. He forced himself to stop, clutching instead at the armrests on either side of him.

The girl, Rachel, the one who'd made out with Blaine, walked out on stage, and began to sing after a few moments of deliberating, glancing off stage to someone in the wings before beginning.

A few lines over, Kurt shifted over, whispering excitedly, "Oh my God, they're doing original songs."

And, indeed, they were.

They were so _screwed. _

A small source of amusement came, though, at the start of the second song when Kurt dragged foam fingers out from underneath his seat(where the hell had _those _come from?) and tossed them back behind him into the audience, standing up with a slightly feral scream at a slight pause in the music, beaming.

He yanked Wes up by his elbow, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet with excitement.

The rest of the Warblers stood up too, starting a chain reaction in the rest of the auditorium until everyone was standing, yelling and cheering as the song drew to a close, red confetti flying everywhere.

* * *

><p>"Oh God," Wes breathed, fingers tapping nervously on his thigh.<p>

"Calm down, Wes, you don't even have a solo," Kurt scolded, adjusting his tie for the millionth time that night.

He couldn't even bring himself to respond, energy buzzing through him, a low buzz filling his ears as Blaine walked out, singing the opening lines to their opening number, _Grenade _by Bruno Mars.

"Wes. Snap out of it," Kurt demanded.

Wes panicked. "I can't! What if something-"

"Oh, for God's sake," Kurt mumbled, exasperated. From Wes' side, he grabbed his blazer, and yanked him over, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Silence. Wes stared at him with huge eyes, Jeff and Nick wolf-whistling from behind them.

"Showtime, Wesley," was all Kurt said, turning to face the audience as the curtains lifted.

Wes sang along with the rest of the Warblers, unable to focus on anything but what had just happened. He could _feel _his cheek burning, right where Kurt had kissed him.

He almost shuddered at the word.

And _there _was his inner schoolgirl again, accompanied by that hot flush rising up his neck.

By the time _Raise Your Glass _was finished, though, he had managed to regain proper thought process, thankfully. There was huge applause as they all stormed together in one huge hug, with much slapping on the back and compliments.

And there was Kurt, wrapping his arms around him, yelling over the noise, "We did it!"

He just grinned, gripping him tightly as cheering and congratulations surrounded them, drunk off happiness.

* * *

><p>"So, this your boytoy, Hummel?" The Latino girl facing him asked, smirking.<p>

Kurt snorted. "Please, Satan. Not all of us manage to be the harlot you are," he replied.

"I don't know about that, Hummel," she said, raking her eyes up and down Wes' body, "seems you two are _pretty close, _from the way you two were hugging after your performance."

They both blushed slightly at that. "That's what I thought," she said, satisfied.

"White boy!" And there was Mercedes, drawing Kurt up into a hug. "'Cedes!" Kurt laughed.

"Dude!"

"Finn!" He called, grinning like mad. Or at least until Finn swung him up into the air. "Put me down this instant, Finn Hudson!"

He did so, smiling down at him. "We missed you, dude," Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately at that.

"Hummel. Nice job out there." Kurt nodded at the hulking boy. "Any of those prep school boys give you trouble, call me and I'll come over and kick their asses for you."

"Please, Noah, as if Kurt needs somebody kick their asses for him." The girl, Tina, said, smiling at him.

"Thanks, Tina," Kurt said, looking like he was about to cry.

"Kurt! Wes!" Flint rushed over, tripping over his own feet, "They're announcing the winners!"

* * *

><p>"And the winner of this year's Regionals Show Choir competition is…" the announcer cleared his throat, "McKinley High's New Directions!"<p>

They'd lost. They'd _lost. _

In the moment it took for this to sink in, Kurt was already over to them, congratulating them. The rest of the Warblers quickly following his lead.

* * *

><p>"Blackbird singing in the dead of night," Kurt sang, voice rising up into the morning air, "take these broken wings and learn to fly…"<p>

A few days after Regionals and here they were, burying Pavarotti in the frozen ground. The casket _had _turned out fabulous, Kurt had grudgingly admitted, snapping at Wes to "stop grinning like a fool and help me dig the freaking grave already."

Afterward s they lingered, Blaine giving them a somewhat wistful look before leaving.

"Do you think it was symbolic?" Kurt asked. "Of our death at Regionals?"

He just shrugged, because, really, what could be said?

They hadn't talked about what had occurred behind the curtain, instead allowing each to dwell on it on their own, neither sure what it really meant for them.

With a frosty sigh, Kurt turned, linking his arm with Wes' as they made their way back. Back to Dalton, where they belonged.

**I adore this chapter, I admit. So long…**

Here you get some real Kures action, rather than just your usual cuddle action. Next, one school's out!chapter, and then…the summer! What will it contain for our two favorite Warblers? We shall see!

Thanks to all my fab reviewers, who I adore. You know who you are.

Reviews are love,

-Mel


	14. Chapter 14

"I specifically _told _you not to to mix those particular chemicals!"

"_Well, _why don't you tell me _before _I'm already tipping the bottle next time?"

The principal, Dr. Wilson, cleared his throat, interrupting their argument(more like a catfight, in all actuality). The two shifted on the hard wooden chairs as he sat down, studying the note on his desk before regarding them thoughtfully.

"Allow me to get this straight-" he paused, looking up from the notice to raise an eyebrow at the pair, "-you accidentally combined two highly reactive and acidic components together, resulting in a chemical reaction that ended up lightly burning the _both_ of you" he gave them a skeptical look" when you knocked over the beaker while fighting over it."

Wearing near identical guilty looks, they held up their heavily bandaged hands, glaring at each other.

He sighed, leaning forward ad he linked his fingers together in an obviously well practiced pose to invoke intimidation.

It worked. Kurt felt himself pale, fidgeting uneasily.

"Mind explaining what happened here, boys?" Dr. Wilson asked softly. "Neither of you are my usual troublemakers."

There was an uncomfortable pause in the room, until Kurt exhaled loudly, slumping over in his chair.

_Showtime_.

"I'm sorry sir," he babbled, doing his best to appear broken-hearted, "I tried, I really did, but I just can't take it any more!"

Wes was giving him a look that screamed at him _What the hell are you doing get me in more trouble and I'll castrate you with a rusty kitchen knife in your sleep I know where you sleep so help me -_

Or something like that. A bit might have gotten mixed up in translation.

Dr. Wilson, bless him, actually looked concerned. "Is something wrong, Kurt?"

"It's...it's Wesley, sir," he rushed, covering his face with his hands so they couldn't see his expression.

"What are you-" said boy started to demand before he held up a hand, stopping him midsentence. "No, Wes! I just can't keep your secret any longer! It's tearing me apart!"

He mock-sobbed, hunching over in his seat.

The principal leaned over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Kurt, you can leave now," he said warmly, "I'm sure Wesley can tell me what's going on without your help."

He nodded shakily, taking a tissue from the box on the desk in front of him before walking out, tossing a quick wink to Wes, who looked positively _murderous_.

He closed the door, standing outside for a moment to listen in.

Dr. Wilson's voice, saying in a worried tone, "Now, Wesley, have you been having any problems lately? Have you... Wesley, answer me honestly. Have you ever hurt yourself before? Is that what this is about? I know there's been a lot of added stress lately, what with school drawing to a close in a few weeks..."

Kurt barely stifled the urge to burst out laughing.

Of course, it might have helped to tell Dr. Wilson the truth, being that they had been arguing over Lady GaGa's latest album when Kurt had unintentionally mixed the two acids together.

That's what Wes got, he supposed, for dying Kurt's hair the previous month, a neon pink that had refused to come out until a _week_ later.

He had to admit, though, he _had _looked pretty fabnulous.

* * *

><p>"SCHOOL'S OUT, BITCHES!" Thad screamed, throwing open the school's large front doors, tossing papers everywhere in the most Blaine-esque fashion possible<p>

"Whoo!" Kurt cheered, spinning happily.

Next to him, Wes rolled his eyes at the immaturity. "You're going to make yourself dizzy," he remarked, catching him by the arm.

Kurt grinned at him goofily. "School's out, Wes! You don't have to act like a dictator-to-be anymore! Go insane for once !"He went back to spinning, moving happily across the Dalton grass.

Snorting, he settled up against one of the large trees littered about the lawn, smiling slightly at the sight.

* * *

><p>An hour later, and everyone had assembled, wearing their rattiest clothes.<p>

Wes sniffed at Kurt's jeans and V-neck shirt. "How does _that _classify as paint clothes?"

Kurt brushed past him, filling his water gun with the contents of the huge barrel dominating the center of their side.

"Crawford Country Day Nightingales!" Blaine called, breaking away from the wall of males to stand in-between the two sides, "We welcome-" "And plan to pummel!" Nick broke in, "-you to our humble abode. Before we begin, though, I'm afraid I have to establish some ground rules."

Boos filled the air, the girls being particularly eager to begin. Like wolves, raring for the kill.

_Shiver._

"All paint used," Blaine continued, "in this epic battle of the prep-schools, is non-toxic, so you shouldn't have to worry if a bit gets in your mouths." He was speaking to all of them. "However, try to keep it out of your eyes. The last thing we need is a trip to the hospital when your eyelids are glued shut."

He stopped for a moment, shuddering, before going on,"Second and final rule-no hitting someone within _five feet _of you directly in the face. Back of the head, get as close as you want."

Wes moved closer to Kurt, muttering under his breath, "I'm aiming for my ex. Some help?"

Kurt flashed him a smirk, holding his gun at the ready. "I don't know, Wes, I might have to join forces with her just for the chance to nail you in the face."

"On the ready, three, two..."

"You wouldn't."

"One..."

"I would."

"Go!"

Shrieks filled the air as the two schools charged each other, paint flying in all directions.

Wes avoided the main mob, dodging the few stray gunmen(women), searching for his target.

One spray hit him on the back of the neck, sending paint dripping down his back. He whirled around, pegging the perpetrator in the face.

He was far to busy, of course, to notice Kurt sneaking off.

* * *

><p>Kurt grabbed the bucket from his hiding place, glancing 'round before sprinting to the main barrel, filling it almost to the top before turning to run back to the tree.<p>

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

He froze, spinning to face the speaker slowly. A girl with short brown hair and a dainty build faced him, holding the water gun with the practiced ease of someone who knew how to use it.

"Explain to me why I shouldn't hit you right now and steal the bucket," she stated, pacing slowly towards him.

He smiled weakly. "Because I don't plan to hit any of the girls with it?"

She contemplated that. "So, a traitor, if you're telling the truth. Interesting."

He tried to edge away from her. She stepped forward, poking him in the chest with her weapon. "Don't move, or I won't hesitate to ruin the shirt."

Oh, she played the game well..

"Now," she said, tilting her head,"you mind telling me exactly what you were planning to do with that bucket, or will I be forced to escort it off your persons?"

Kurt gulped. "Planned to dump it on my best friend's head when he isn't expecting it. It should be easy enough, what with the way he's distracted, hunting down his ex." Her eyes widened with surprise.

"This person you plan to attack wouldn't be one Wesley Hughes, would it?"

He blinked at that. "Yes, actually. And I don't suppose you would be the ex?"

She shook her head. "Nah, one of my close friends is. And you would be?" She studied him, taking in his appearance.

He held out a hand cautiously. "Kurt Hummel."

She took it, shaking firmly. "Mia Lendscraft. Nice to meet you, Kurt."

He allowed a smile to cross his face at her next words. "I suppose you wouldn't mind terribly if I helped you out with your little ambush?"

"Not in the least."

And thus, a beautiful friendship/alliance was born.

* * *

><p>Wes frowned, moving forward tentatively. The majority of the fighting was taking place in the center of the field, but he still hadn't found Leah, who had told him infinite times that she preferred the edges of the battlefield.<p>

"Like a lone sniper," she'd informed him.

"Hello there, Wesley," a familiar voice said from behind him. He sprung around, immediately bringning his gun up to chest level.

"Mia." He acknowledged her with a nod.

"You want some help? I heard you're going after Leah."

His brow furrowed at that. "You and Leah are close, last I remembered."

Her face creased into bitter lines, her fists clenching. "We had a fight right after you broke up. The bitch hasn't spoken to me since. I'm worried, too. Heard she joined up with some kid."

Something stuck out to him in the midst of angry dialogue. "Joined up? Like you're suggesting we do now?"

She shrugged. "Some guy named Kurt, that's all Cindy could tell me. Apparently _she _heard from Jeff and Nick, so I figure it's pretty reliable."

Kurt had promised he'd do this, Wes though, wincing. Having Kurt against him was bad news for him. He had the most _evil, devious _mind...

"You up for it?" Mia questioned.

He nodded absentmindedly, lowering his weapon.

"Good."

They stalked around the field, avoiding the large struggles as they surveyed the area.

"Do you think they're hiding in the bushes?" Wes asked, finally.

Mia made a face. "Maybe. I _did _think I might have seen something a little while ago, right over there." She gestured to a a small patch of shrubbery with a large tree hanging overhead.

_Might as well try. _"You stay back, just in case they do jump out at me."

She nodded, letting a gleeful smile overtake her face once his back was to her.

* * *

><p>"Perfect," Kurt whispered, clutching the bucket tightly.<p>

* * *

><p>"Leeaaahhhh," Wes murmured, "Kuurrrttt, come on out,"<p>

"Gladly," _that voice _said above him.

He looked up, only to be met with a wall of color, hurtling down towards him.

* * *

><p>Flint frowned, staring over at the source of the screaming coming from the edge of the field. He snickered, nudging Jeff as he pointed over. Jeff outright laughed, even as he blasted a girl in the chest, at the sight, a <em>very <em>satisfied Kurt hopping down from the tree and high-fiving the girl who had stood off to a ways, chuckling.

"Poor Wes," he declared, shaking his head sadly.

"If only he'd known that Leah was sick today," one of the girls facing them said, smirking.

They exchanged glances, assessing each other.

"What would you say to a partnership, of sorts?" Jeff asked.

The girl grinned. "Sounds like the destruction of the world. To everyone else, at least."

**Bwahaha.**

Love Mia, I really do. She's evile, just like me. xD

Next, the Warblers begin their long journey to the beach-fun time coming up ahead.

I'm happy right now, even if there wasn't much plot development this chapter.

Glee is NOT MINE.

Cookies and hugs to all my fabulous reviewers!

-Mel


	15. Chapter 15

When Kurt had asked him if he could have a friend over, Burt wasn't sure just what to expect. He was used to dealing with Finn, who usually only needed a stern reminder not to break anything or eat all the food in the fridge.

Kurt, however, was a different story, and honestly, he was a bit worried about it, two gay teenagers left unsupervised in the same room for several hours alone. And considering the eyes that Blaine kid had been making at his son last time he was over, Burt would bet there'd be things going on in that room.

He'd been prepared to give the kid the whole interrogation the moment he walked in, make sure he knew who he was messing with and what he was ready to do if the prep-boy hurt his son. He even had the shotgun at the ready, case he walked in on the two doing anything less than appropriate under his roof.

That's why he had been surprised, to say the least, when Kurt came in, dragging along some Asian kid that he'd never seen before.

"Dad, this is Wes," Kurt spouted cheerfully, "Wes, my Dad."

The boy raised an eyebrow at him for a moment before turning to Burt with a slight smile, nodding politely at him. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Hummel. I'm Kurt's roommate from school."

He wasn't being the overly-respectful guest that the Blaine kid had been upon meeting him, trying to force awkward conversation the way someone trying to make the best impression possible would. The way a future boyfriend would.

He preferred the kid immediately for both this, and the way Kurt seemed surprisingly comfortable with him, more at ease than he ever had with the preppy-boy.

He didn't voice this thought, of course, deciding instead to give this Wes a hard time, see how he'd hold up. "Thought you were bringing that Blaine here," he stated, eying him intimidatingly.

Kurt seemed to pale at this, staring down at his hands at the words. This instantly brought Burt's guard up. So, something had happened with the Anderson might have to have a little _chat _with him next time he saw him.

Wes put a hand on Kurt's arm, offering him a reassuring look.

His son's head came up at that, giving Wes a smile before returning his attention back to him.

_Well, shit. _The kid was looking at Kurt, his boy, in a way that spoke more than an impressive meeting with him ever could. And while Kurt had never really returned Anderson's affections, he was most definitely responding to this Wes'.

Wonderful. His Kurt actually had some sort of feelings for a boy, a boy who seemed to have the same sort of feelings for him too.

Too early to give Boyfriend Talk-Kurt would kill him, and he didn't want to scare off any of Kurt's friends...

He was stuck watching this unfold, seeing if it crashed and burned or worked out for his son and there was _nothing he could do about it. _This was going to drive him insane.

_Calm down_, _Burt, you might've just overreacted. You don't even know if the kid's gay or not._

Kurt spoke, stopping his inner self-scolding. "Blaine's been pretty busy lately, Dad. Couldn't make it."

Wes gave him a look that clearly said _cut the bullshit_ and Kurt threw him a glare before continuing. "Wes and I'll be in my room, Dad. Call us up when dinner's ready."

Kurt grabbed Wes' wrist and tugged him downstairs, a gesture that wasn't unnoticed by him.

Burt's eyes narrowed. "Door halfway open, kid, you know the rules!" He was given only a slight confirmation from Kurt, and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

* * *

><p>Burt paused at the base of the stairs, deciding to listen for a moment before barging in.<p>

"Stop moving!" That was Kurt's voice, there.

"Well, if you'd stop waving those things around-!"

"Unless you _want _me to mess up, hold still already! Wesley Alexander Hughes! Give those back!"

"Stop shoving them in my face and maybe I would!" He felt his eyes widen.

"If you hadn't waited a few months to do it, we wouldn't be having this problem, now, would we?" His blood boiled. The boy had waited until he was directly under Burt's roof to steal his boy's innocence, a way to _mock _him openly, a sort of big _fuck you _thrown right in his face.

Burt threw open the door, eyes _blazing. _If he saw so much as one unwanted appendage from the Wes kid, he wasn't about to stop himself from chopping it off with the axe he kept out in the yard.

The sight that met his eyes was an entirely different story from the one he was expecting. Wes was on his back on Kurt's bed, Kurt leaning over him, the boy's hand resting against Kurt's chest.

Had that been the full story Wes most definitely would have found himself missing one major organ, as Burt had internally promised. As it was, though, the rest of the picture spoke differently.

The main thing, he noticed with great relief, was that the two were fully clothed, only their shoes and socks kicked off.

The second thing, saving Wes from complete damnation, was the pair of scissors he gripped in one hand, holding it as far as possible from Kurt as he warded him off with the other. Kurt was currently reaching for them, the heel of his palm sunk into the sheets next to Wes' face, legs in a wide straddle around his waist.

They froze as they caught sight of him, both faces in front of him blushing at the compromising position they were in.

"Hey, Dad!" Kurt sat back on his feet, trying to cover up his embarrassment. "I was _attempting _to give Wes here a haircut. He's grown scruffy." He flicked a lock of said boy's hair.

Wes, gasping slightly, propped himself up on his elbows, scowling darkly up at Kurt before tilting his face apologetically at Burt.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I do _not _trust your son with scissors." Burt just shook his head, still flabbergasted, before near _sprinting _out, collapsing onto the couch with deep, shuddering breaths.

"Something wrong, dear?" He didn't say anything, just staring off absentmindedly as threw his head back and forth emphatically, panting.

* * *

><p>"So, this-this Warbler beach trip," he said gruffly, reaching for the potatoes, "what's all this about?"<p>

The boy shifted a bit in his chair, clearly a bit uncomfortable.

_Good. A normal response.  
><em>

"Well, sir," he said primly, spearing a bit of meat on his plate, "we take about an eight and a half hour long bus trip to North Carolin, including meal and bathroom breaks. All the expenses are covered by several of the parents, including the owner of the house itself."

He cleared his throat. "That's what I was wondering about. I'm not quite sure I'm fond of so many boys your age, rooming together in the same building."

"Dad!" Kurt hissed at him from across the table.

The kid was nodding at this, seeming to agree. "Of course, sir, I can't say I blame you-the idea is a bit skeptical, I admit. However, as it is, it's a fairly large house, enough rooms that the most we have in one is four Warblers, and that's usually the exception. Most rooms just have two, and we figure that, what with the rooming system at Dalton, the boys are responsible to handle it."

"What's the point of this?" Finn asked suddenly through a mouthful of food.

"Swallow before speaking, Finnegan," Kurt reprimanded him.

Wes gave him a nod before talking again. "It's a good question. More than anything it's just a way for the Warblers to bond, become more friends than acquaintances, and to have fun together in the summer. We do a few performances at the public beach, of course, but mainly it's just pure fun." He finished this off with a pleasant smile.

"Sounds gay," Finn stated from across the table.

"Finn!" Kurt and Carole scolded simultaneously.

"Sorry," he muttered, shoveling more food in.

"I'm sorry," Kurt was apologizing to the kid, "we're still struggling to teach Finn proper etiquette. We've only just recently gotten past house-breaking him."

Wes actually laughed at that, Carole joining in. He waved a dismissive hand. "I've dealt with Jeff and Nick on a daily basis for the past several years. It's fine." Kurt beamed at him.

Time to regain control. "And you said this thing goes on for two weeks?"

"Yes, sure."

He glanced at Kurt. "I'm not sure, kid. A long time to be away from home."

"Dad, I'll be fine!" He complained.

"If you _do _come," Wes said, addressing his son now, "you'll need to bring the usual necessities: Clothes, toiletries, etc. Bring _your own _sleeping bag."

He gave Kurt a pointed look at that. "And _buy a watch with an alarm for the bus ride,_ I am _not _carrying you into the restaurant this time."

Kurt rolled his eyes at this, all the while tinging red. Carole was cooing at the two, clearly finding them adorable.

He grimaced. "Alright, kiddo, you can-" Kurt leapt at him, throwing his arms around Burt's neck.

"Thank you so much!" He gushed.

"Don't make me regret it," he warned. Over Kurt's shoulder, he gave Wes a look. _That means you too._

Too his satisfaction the kid gulped, looking worried.

_Finally._

* * *

><p><em>"Too. Early." <em>Kurt groaned, stumbling his way out of the car. Behind him, Finn yawned, whining something about the time.

Because, of course, what with how long the ride was, they had to leave early. _3:00 a.m. _early.

"I'll miss you, dude," Finn muttered, hugging him for a moment before driving off.

"Warblers over here!" And there was Wes, in the center of the parking lot next to their bus, looking chipper as ever. _Kill me now. _

Heaving up his many bags, he tripped his way over, arms aching. Breathing hard, he dropped the stack down beside the bus, pausing to regain his energy.

"Here, man," Flint said, helping him place all the bags, excepting his backpack, in the side compartment for luggage.

"Just how much did you pack?" Flint asked, stretching out his back.

He didn't reply, calling, "Here!" as Wes read out his name from his clipboard.

"We're off, then, Warblers!" Wes said loudly, boarding the bus. Muttering under his breath, Kurt climbed in, settling down in one of the chairs. Thankfully, there were enough seats for everyone to get their own two side by side, allowing them to spread out as they fell asleep.

The bus started up, the lights above them flickering off as they left the lot. Sighing with relief, he dug out his sleeping bag, squirming into it and laying down on the seats with his head against the pillow.

Closing his eyes, he fell asleep, beginning the long journey to the beach.

**Not technically a beach chapter, but they're on their way!**

And you get Burt Hummel action here! Yay!

Next chapter...we shall see.

It hit me earlier that I have **68 **reviews. 68. I just cannot believe that. *swoons* You guys spoil me in the best way.

I'm relatively happy with this. :) Hope you are too.

Reviews are my crack,

-Mel


	16. Chapter 16

"Ngh," Kurt groaned, dropping his head to rest on Wes' shoulder, "_too_ _freaking early_."

Wes just rolled his eyes at that, shifting his arm slightly under Kurt's weight. "It's eight o'clock. You had _five hours _to sleep. You shouldn't be this tired."

"I only got two hours before I woke up," he said, words garbled.

He paused for a moment. "Where'd everyone go?"

He frowned at the question, peering around the restaurant before sighing in exasperation. "They're all huddled around the crane machine, of course. Looks like Jeff's on a roll."

Loud cheering from the cluster of Warblers further illustrated his statement. Several of the other customers gave them disapproving looks before returning to their food.

They had stopped at a Red Robin for breakfast, the majority of the Warblers already awake and bouncing with energy much to the discomfort of those still sleeping. They had managed to reserve a room, half of a wall with glass windows separating them from the rest of the place.

Of course, what with their being teenage males, they had all but ransacked the buffet, garnering many glares from the staff. Full, the majority of the boys had abandoned their empty plates and glasses on the tables and had pursued more _fulfilling _ways to amuse themselves.

"I got a purple tiger!" Nick yelped as he ran in, stumbling slightly.

From his shoulder Wes was pretty sure he heard a muffled "_Shut the hell up_," from Kurt, but he was immediately interrupted by the appearance of one Blaine, laughing in Nick's face openly.

"Hah! Your pitiful excuse of a tiger is no match for my_ blue llama!"  
><em>

Kurt dragged himself up, raising one eyebrow at the scene facing him. "Is he for real?"

Wes grimaced. "Unfortunately."

Nick gasped, glaring at Blaine hatefully. "Take that back, you _scoundrel!"_

"Never!" Blaine crowed. In an instant the two were battling, attacking each other with their respective stuffed animals.

_"_Stuff this crazy never happens on TV," Kurt grumbled, sipping his Diet Coke.

"SILENCE!" Thad announced, stepping in-between the two feuding Warblers.

"Stop, now," he said gravely, "for _none _of your paltry animals can stand up to the power of my _PINK, SPARKLY DOLPHIN! EAT IT, BITCHES_!" He screamed, waving said dolphin around.

Blaine and Nick froze at that, staring at the toy.

"We...we can never compete," Blaine stated sadly.

Nick shook his head. "The complete epic power of the pink dolphin combined with the power of sparkles is an unbeatable combination. To attempt to do so would be suicide for our poor, sparkle-less animals."

He sniffed sadly, slinking out with Blaine following close behind.

"Stuff that," Kurt said, rolling his eyes, "stuff this crazy doesn't happen in _real _life."

"That's the Warblers for you," he said, snickering slightly.

All the while Thad danced about, flailing about in triumph.

_Or maybe it's just Thad.  
><em>

* * *

><p>"We're...here..." Kurt panted, collapsing on the short, tough grass of the beach. He blinked,letting it sink in.<p>

"WE'RE HERE!" He beamed, lying down on the grass. Suddenly getting an idea, he began moving his arms and legs back and forth.

_It's a grass angel!_

"Interesting thing you're doing there. Mind explaining?" He felt himself blush at the unfamiliar voice, squinting up into the light to see the boy.

His jaw dropped. He'd never been one to swoon over a pretty face, but...

He had to admit, this boy was _gorgeous. _Amazing facial structure, with strong cheekbones and a well defined forehead. Stunning green eyes, and blond hair that fell messily in his eyes in a way that Kurt could never manage.

"Ah, well..." he began, only to be cut off by Wes.

"Who're you?" he asked, staring rudely. Kurt frowned at him.

The boy laughed, a light, easy sound. "The name's Joshua. I'm your temporary neighbor, I'm afraid." He smiled charmingly, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. "I'm George and Gina's nephew. They lent out the house to me and a couple of my cousins. They warned me you'd be coming."

Kurt heaved his body up off the grass, brushing himself off.

"Yes, well," Wes' voice was unusually unfriendly, "we still need to unpack and get settled, so..."

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Joshua held up two hands submissively. "Didn't mean to intrude. I'll be on my way. I'll see you later," he said to Kurt, tossing him a wink. Kurt stared after him open-mouthed, blinking.

A couple of the Warblers whistled, raising their eyebrows at him.

"That," Jacob stated emphatically, "is one _fine_ piece of meat."

Kurt didn't even realize he was nodding in agreement until too late, turning bright red when Flint elbowed him. Shaking his head, he returned to his bags, dragging them inside.

* * *

><p>"Someone's <em>jealous, <em>" David sang as they dropped his two bags off in his room. He didn't respond, staring off sullenly. "I've _never _seen you act that rude to someone you don't know."

He scowled darkly, seeing the blonde's face in his mind.

He _really _didn't appreciate the way he had looked at Kurt, like he was some sort of _prize._

He muttered to himself, plopping down onto his bed unceremoniously.

"You've got it _bad, _man," David continued, closing his eyes and tsking. "Keep acting like that and Kurt's gonna get pissed. You saw how well he whole possessive act worked with Blaine."

He blanched at that. That was the _last _thing he wanted.

"Just...think before you do anything major, all right?" When Wes didn't answer, he left, sighing.

* * *

><p>The house was <em>huge, <em>with at least five rooms and a long dock that went directly into the Intercoastal Waterway, as Flint told him. He was rooming with Wes_(of course), _and their room had the most beautiful view of the water.

He sighed in happiness, snuggling down into the sheets of his bed contentedly.

Wes entered, looking to be in a slightly better mood than before. "Everyone's heading off to the beach," he said, "so you'd better change," he surveyed the skinny jeans and vest Kurt was currently wearing, raising an eyebrow, "and make sure you bring sandals. We're going to be walking _everywhere _here, without a proper car."

He left, leaving Kurt to switch into less _formal _clothes. He had to admit, he wasn't used to this, just swim trunks and a t-shirt, but, he supposed, he'd have to get used to it.

Making a face, he stepped out of the room, sitting down on one of the several couches littered about the living room.

* * *

><p>"Why, hello there! Fancy meeting you here." He felt his stomach twist, and he turned to see Joshua, grinning openly at him. He returned his smile, hoping he didn't look too much like a fool.<p>

"You come here often in the summer?" He asked, curious.

Joshua laughed. "I used to, but things have been...busy...these last few years." He gave a heartrending smirk. They began to talk, and Kurt was, admittedly, happy to learn that there _was _a nice personality underneath that face.

* * *

><p>Wes shifted grumpily under the hot sun, mood worsening by the minute. Kurt was chatting away with Joshua, leaving him to squint at the ocean, mouth set in a firm frown.<p>

"I'm going in the water," he announced, standing up suddenly.

Kurt scrambled up. "I'll go too." For the first time in the last hour, Wes nearly smiled.

Which was then ruined by Joshua, rising gracefully to say, yes, he was coming too. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, trying to convey a message. _Mine._

His attention was caught by Kurt, casually pulling his shirt off.

He averted his eyes, feeling his face heat up. _Don't stare don't stare don't stare don't stare-_

Dammit, Kurt was _built, _with not-to-broad shoulders and well sculpted muscles leading to a narrow waist.

Avoiding looking at him, Wes shrugged off his shirt, padding across the soft sand to the water.

Kurt and Joshua followed behind him, still talking away. Scowling, he went out until the water was waist deep, bobbing up ad down on the waves like a cork. Kurt, who was shorter than him, was mid-chest, laughing and ducking under the water before popping back up next to him.

He was laughing, hair plastered to his forehead, water running in rivulets down his skin.

_Shit. _Someone out there was testing him, he knew.

Trying to lighten the mood, he joked around , splashing him. Squealing, Kurt got back at him, sending him leaping for cover as he threw some water at him.

This went on fro some time, Joshua joining in, when _it _happened. _It _being a swarm of jellyfish heading straight for them.

Kurt screamed, flailing about.

"Stay calm!" Joshua said, "And don't move, or they'll sting you!"

Kurt didn't respond, deciding _instead _to climb all over Wes in a desperate attempt to get away from the creatures.

Wes may or may not have felt his breathing hitch. Hell, he had a dripping wet, half-naked Kurt Hummel clawing his way up his body. So _sue him._

Kurt finally stopped, legs wrapping around his waist, arms tight around his neck in typical piggy-back ride position.

He felt a bit smug at the look on Joshua's face-he couldn't resist sending him a smirk, only to be met with the bird. _Ooohhh, little Joshua isn't so innocent, now, is he?_ He responded in kind, tilting his head cockily at the blond.

_Bwahahaha._

Wes: 1 Joshua: 0

**Stuff will be happening soon!**

In...two chapters, exactly.

So, if you've ever been to Ocean Isle Beach, NC, than it should be easier to imagine this place.

If you haven't...imagine just your typical beach. But on an island. Yeah...

Love you all! as I said, two more chapters till the DrunkBeach!chapter. I'm looking forward to writing it. :)

-Mel


	17. Chapter 17

"I honestly can't believe Blaine agreed to sing _Only Prettier_," Kurt stated, shaking his head in amusement as he dug into his Italian ice.

"Can't say I'm surprised," Wes said, stepping out of the way of a woman clearly expecting, pushing along a baby stroller with twins.

Blaine finished off the song to thunderous applause.

"That's my cue," Kurt slid off the wooden fence. "Hold my cup? And _don't eat it._" He shoved it into Wes' free hand, not bothering to wait for an answer before making his way through the crowd to the stage.

Why did Wes put up with him again?

Oh, that's right. He just happened to be infatuated with him. And if he didn't regret falling in like with him every moment like this occurred...

Yep, Kurt had him whipped, for sure.

But if he thought Wes wasn't going to steal some of his, he was sorely mistaken. Pressing the two drinks(?) against his chest with an arm, he took his plastic spoon and dug into Kurt's, only to immediately gag.

Mango. _Of course. _Kurt _would _pick the one flavor he couldn't _stand. _Far too sweet for his tastes. Grumbling to himself, he went back to his own, chasing away the taste on his tongue with a good helping of lemon flavor.

_Better. Much, much better._

He paused, taking the chance to look around. They stood in the local museum's parking lot, where, as he'd heard, concerts took place every Friday on the makeshift stage set up on the grass beside the lot.

Of course, they'd asked the residential band if they could take over for the next couple of weeks, and they had all too happily agreed.

Now, here they were, facing a parking lot full of people sitting in beach chairs, several policemen scattered throughout the edges(this, too, he learned, was normal).

What caused Wes a bit of worry, though, was that despite the 'No Drinking' sign placed on the fence he was currently leaning against, nearly all the adults here(or at least the ones without children) had beers in their hands.

Up on stage, Kurt was killing Taylor Swift's _Mine, _and had several people singing along and clapping.

Or maybe that was just because they were drunk.

Either way, by the time Kurt was finished, the whole of those attending were clapping and whistling. Kurt bowed, waving excitedly to them before hopping off the stage, grinning.

"How was that?" He asked, face flushed.

"You're glowing," he commented. Smiling, he handed him his frozen beverage(?). "Good job."

Kurt studied his cup, gasping in horror. "You ate some of my ice."

Wes nodded. "Did you expect anything different?"

He pouted at that.

"Kurt!" The smile dropped off his face instantly. There was _Joshua, _forcing his way through the mob.

"Kurt!" He gasped, beaming at him. "You did wonderful! I can't believe just how amazing your voice is!"

And he was blushing, of course, blushing in a way that mad Wes hate Joshua all the more.

They took to talking,again, of course, leaving Wes out. _Again. _Glowering, he stalked off, muttering angrily to himself.

* * *

><p>"Okay, Wes," Kurt said once they'd made it back into their room, "mind telling me what the hell's going on with you?"<p>

When he didn't get an answer, he continued, pacing about, "All I know is that every freaking time Joshua comes anywhere _near me, _you become incredibly stiff and rude. And I _know _you aren't an asshole like the way you've been acting. So _explain."_

Wes swallowed, glaring at the covers on his bed. "I don't like him."

"_No," _the sarcasm in Kurt's voice was sharp, making him flinch.

He licked his lips. "I don't _trust _him, then."

"Why?" The hardness in his voice hit Wes hard. "What possible reason could you have for treating him like a pariah when he's been nothing but helpful since we arrived?"

He struggled to come up with a decent response, failing. Finally, he just asked, "Do you like him?"

"What?" He looked up from the fibers of the sheet to see Kurt staring at him incredulously.

"Do you like him?" He repeated. "He's been flirting with you since the moment you came here. Do you like him, or are you just leading him on?"

And now he was acting like an ass, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself, stop himself from letting out all the resentment he'd been feeling for the last few days.

Kurt was shaking, looking at him with such pure, unrestrained _fury _that he instantly regretted it, even before he could see the hand flying at him.

_Smack. _he reached up to cup his cheek, staring at him in horror.

"_You, you," _Kurt's voice had gone unnaturally high, even for him, "_you fucking asshole!_ Just because," He stalked forward, eyes burning, "there's someone who compliments me and actually makes me feel _good about myself, _you have to act like a freaking _bastard, _just because you're jealous! You know what? _Screw you, _Wesley Hughes!"

And with that he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Wincing, Wes buried his head beneath a pillow, wishing away what had just happened.

The door opened quietly. "What happened?" Jacob's voice filled the room. "Kurt's been going around, swearing in French at everyone. We figure you guys must have had a fight or something."

"I fucked everything up." His voice was unnaturally flat.

He felt Jacob's weight settle on the bed with a sigh, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder sympathetically.

"He'll come around," he said, voice soft. Wes tossed the pillow away, shaking head emphatically.

"No, he won't. He won't because I was such a freaking _douchebag _to him and he's going to refuse to speak to me again and leave me to live the rest of my life alone and-"

"Wes." This stopped his quick descent into hysteria.

"Kurt...has a short temper. You know that. Just give him some time to cool off, and then apologize to him. You two are too close to let one fight get between you."

He sniffed at that. "Thanks, Jacob."

"Anytime." He left, leaving Wes to his thoughts.

God, he really hated his life right now.

** MORE ANGST! NOOO!**

Anyway, the next chapter should be fairly long, and will have the boys reconciling, so I hope it can make up for this super short chapter.

Next is the DrunkBeach chapter...!*flails*

I'm so happy to finally be able to write it. *beams*

Oh god, 17 chapters. I never expected it to get this long. Never.

And they haven't even started dating or _anything _yet. *shrugs* Guess I'm just a troll.

Love to all my amazing reviewers!

-Mel


	18. Chapter 18

To say that Wes was in a sullen mood would be an understatement of epic proportions. Really, though, was he to be blamed?

Oh, that's right. He was. He remembered his words from several days ago and grimaced, shifting on the wooden log he was sitting on.

They were at a bonfire, of all things, at six o'clock in the evening, roasting marshmallows and singing along as Blaine strummed away at the guitar he'd brought along. The Warblers were teasing and playing around with each other, just enjoying the mood in general.

Except Wes wasn't. Wes, who was still sulking from their fight, watching Kurt throw his head back and laugh at something Joshua was saying, the blue green flames from the smoldering driftwood dancing across the skin of his neck.

"You want a drink?" Jeff and Nick hovered over him, swinging the cooler they'd brought about.

He was going to say no-he didn't trust _an_y drink the two might have to offer-when he caught sight of Kurt again, giggling and blushing, and abruptly said yes.

Looking surprised,they immediately got to rifling through the contents, muttering to each other excitedly.

Really, that should have been more than enough of a warning for him, but, not for the first time, his attention was distracted by Kurt, practically _purring _in contentment as the blonde worked his shoulder muscles with nimble fingers, rubbing deep circles with his thumbs into his back.

He forced himself to look away, feeling that green-eyed monster claw at his belly. This was below him, this _sulking _and brooding over Kurt, but hell, he was an easily jealous person, he knew.

He never could stand it when other boys had flirted with Leah, watching her not saying anything to contradict them with him _right there _next to him.

Wes would always sling an arm around her waist, kiss her on the cheek to show them that she was _his, _and his only. She'd always tease him about it later, laughing at just how possessive he was of her.

But he couldn't do that with Kurt. Couldn't claim him as Wes' because, honestly, he _wasn't. _And he couldn't help but hate that, hate that he had no right to claim Kurt as his own.

"One Dr. Pepper," Nick's voice broke him out of his musing, shoving the can directly under his nose. He looked up at them, blinking, before accepting the drink, quickly gulping down several mouthfuls.

"I wouldn't do that," and there was David, eying him with concern, "chances are they've spiked it."

He just shrugged, downing another large sip.

"Wes," he ignored him, "Wes!"

He paused, glancing at him.

"Drinking yourself into a stupor isn't going to help you," David said softly.

He didn't respond, choosing instead to return to his drink.

David turned back to Jacob with a sigh, returning to their conversation.

"You're really letting him do that?" The boy asked

"He's not about to listen to me," he shook his head, making a face."Hopefully, though, this might teach him something about drinking." With that, they resumed their previous discussion, hoping the best for their friend.

* * *

><p>Joshua, as Kurt had learned in the past hour or so, was a bit of an ass when he wasn't trying to flatter him. He had spent the whole of the time talking about himself, quickly dismissing <em>anything <em>Kurt said.

_Strike One._

He put up with it, though, because, he had to admit, he had gone out of his way this evening to infuriate Wes. And by the looks of it, it was working.

He was still fairly pissed off at what Wes had said, accusing him of _leading Joshua on, _as if he got kicks out of hurting people.

And Wes had hurt _him, _no matter what Kurt said otherwise. Joshua had made him _happy, _complimenting him and flattering him, and Wes had felt it necessary to ruin that for him because of his own selfish reasons.

He could feel Wes' eyes on him, staring at him throughout the days after, waiting for the chance to apologize. A chance Kurt didn't plan to give to him for a long time.

Maybe it was selfish of _him, _refusing to forgive him like this. All friends fought, he knew, and if he ever wanted for them to move on, he supposed, he'd have to accept his apology and forget about it.

There was some greedy part of him, though, that _wanted _him to drag it out. _Wanted _to see just how much Wes would put up with it, how far he'd go to make Kurt forgive him, just how much he _valued _Kurt.

Yeah, it was pretty cruel of him, but he _did _want them to work it out. No matter how long it took.

And there was Joshua, blathering on and on about his childhood-as if Kurt _really _wanted to know-when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind, a familiar face burrowing into his neck.

He blinked. "Wes?"

Said boy merely hummed, swaying slightly.

"What are you doing?" He caught a whiff of Wes' breath and froze, startled. _Alcohol. _Wes never, never drank.

What-he glanced through the fiery embers, only to see Jeff and Nick, watching them gleefully. _Of course._

He popped his head up, resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder.

"I'm stealing your cuddles," he slurred.

He frowned. "What?"

"I'm stealing your cuddles," he repeated, "that way you can't give them to _him."_ He glared at Joshua, who was openly staring at them.

Kurt tried to feel irritated, he really did-but honestly, drunk Wes was freaking _adorable_(and rather clingy), and he offered an amusing escape from Joshua'_s _long-winded rants.

He decided to play along. "But they're _my _cuddles, Wesley."

Wes nuzzled into his shoulder, words muffled. "I-I'll give them back to you a-afterwards_."_

Rolling his eyes, he went back to Joshua. "You were saying?"

Joshua was scowling, watching him darkly. "You're just going to let him stay there?"

_Strike Two._

"He's harmless. Why?"

Joshua just shook his head_, _returning to his previous topic, albeit a bit less enthusiastically.

Kurt didn't bother to listen, instead paying attention to Wes, who was currently singing _Hummingbird Heartbeat _drunkenly in his ear. He felt the edges of his mouth curl up of their own accord.

At this point, the whole of the Warblers were staring at them, smirking.

"-meant to ask you-"

"I'm sorry?" He interrupted, lost.

Joshua had a seductive smile on his face, looking at Kurt in a way that made him uneasy.

In comes Wes to save the day!

"Stop l-looking at him that way," he muttered, glowering at the blon_d._

"What way?" He asked, tilting his head innocently.

"Like he's a piece of meat," he said stubbornly, clinging tightly to Kurt.

Wes growled the next words in a low tone that sent shivers down his spine, "He's _mine."_

As if to emphasize this, he returned his mouth to Kurt's neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

_"Wes!" _He shrieked, pushing his face away. "_Stop it!" _Several of the Warblers raised their eyebrows at them as he blushed furiously._  
><em>

_"_I'm defending your innocence!_" _He protested loudly, trying to return to his previous activity.

"By giving me a hickey," he said flatly. Wes nodded profusely, eyes glazed over.

He stood up suddenly, Wes falling backwards into the sand. "I'm going to take him back to the house," he announced, heaving him up from the ground. He staggered about, flailing ridiculously.A couple of the Warblers snickered at the sight.

"He barged in on our conversation," Joshua clenched his fists, "and then _forced himself _on you, and you're taking the time to drag his sorry ass back to the house?" He demanded harshly.

_Strike Three, you're out._

The rest of the group fell silent at that, waiting for Kurt's response.

"He may be a sorry ass," he said fiercely, "but he's _my _sorry ass. And don't you _dare _try to stop me or so help me, I'll personally _make sure _you won't be able to walk properly for the next several _decades._"

He grabbed Wes by the hand. "C'mon."

Grinning dopily, he jumped up, looping his arms around Kurt's neck and his legs around his waist. Kurt lurched forward, stumbling.

"Forward!" Wes cried, throwing one arm into the air.

Snorting, he trudged forward_,_beginning the journey back to the house.

* * *

><p>He dropped Wes off with a relieved sigh, rubbing his shoulders in exhaustion. Wes had fallen asleep halfway there, leaving Kurt to carry one hundred plus pounds of dead weight.<p>

He groaned, collapsing on his bed.

"Kurt?" He flipped over to see Wes watching him, curled up in a ball.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Are you mad at me?" He looked so..._pitiful, _watching him with these sad, huge eyes that Kurt couldn't help but fall just a little bit deeper.

He sighed. "No, Wes, I'm still _annoyed,_ but I'm not mad. Not anymore._" _He grinned at that, beaming happily at him.

"Go to sleep, 'kay?" He nodded, burying himself under the covers.

Kurt yawned, chuckling to himself before snuggling down into his bed.

* * *

><p>Wes woke up with possibly the <em>worst headache ever. <em>Ever.

He slid off the bed, clamping a hand to his mouth as the world spun nauseatingly around him. Struggling not to puke right there and then, he raced to the bathroom, retching violently in into the toilet.

Footsteps echoed painfully loud behind him, cool hands holding his hair back as he heaved over and over.

Finally finished, he slumped over, completely spent, throat raw.

"Let's get you back to the bed," Kurt's voice said above him and he groaned, gripping his head as waves of pain pulsed through his temple.

Eyes clenched shut, he allowed himself to be led along and sat on his bed, ears ringing.

A glass of water was pressed into his hand with two pills. He swallowed them quickly, whimpering slightly.

"What happened?" He questioned hoarsely.

"Well..."

"Oh, God," he muttered, wincing.

"You spent the majority of the bonfire alternating between drinking what I'm guessing was a spiked beverage and glaring at Joshua, got drunk, threw yourself all _over _me, told Joshua off, and ended off the evening by giving me a hickey, "he said, clearly enjoying the expression on Wes' face when he caught sight of the bruise on his neck.

"Oh my God," he said, raking his hands through his hair, "I am _so fucking sorry, _Kurt."

"Why?" He stared at Kurt in disbelief for a moment.

"_Why? _I did the same damn thing as Blaine and that jock," he mumbled, dropping his head onto his arms.

He heard Kurt sigh, settling closer to him. "_Wes. _Look at me."

He did so reluctantly, watching him warily.

"You didn't kiss me, " Kurt said, as if to explain everything, "and it's a good thing you didn't, because if you had you'd be feeling a _lot _worse right now."

He began to rub comforting circles into his back.

"The main difference, though, Wesley, between you and Blaine and Karofsky," he continued," is that I _actually like you, _Wes."

He blinked for a moment, letting that sink in.

"You like me?"

"I'm not about to repeat myself, Wes." He began to grin.

"Don't think you're off the hook just yet, Wesley _still _need to discuss your behavior these past few days."

He was screwed.

_Totally worth it._

**Yay! Drunk beach chapter, finally!**

I'm praying this will live up to expectations, no matter how fail whale the ending is.

Yeah, that feeling confession didn't run nearly so smoothly as I wanted it too, but...

Oh well. It's over! It's finished! I'm happy. :)

96 reviews. **96 reviews. **4 away from **1 freaking hundred.**

*hugs self* You guys are amazing.

Glee is NOT MINE.

Love you allz,

-Mel


	19. Chapter 19

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Wes asked, struggling with the clasps on his life jacket.

"Oh, for Gaga's sake," Kurt muttered, leaning over to properly snap them them together. "Here. I swear, you're like a helpless child sometimes."

He pouted at that, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt moved back,explaining, "Apparently, one of Joshua's relatives has a boating license, and he offered to drive George and Gina's boat for us if we ever wanted to go tubing. _So,_ here we are."

Wes frowned as his eyes lit on said relative, who was currently talking with the blond himself. "I'm not sure...," he trailed off.

At Kurt's questioning gaze, he elaborated. "Joshua still seems pretty mad for the bonfire thing. What if he...I don't know, tells him to smash me into one of the other boats driving around? His cousin will blame it on the other driver and get off with a slap on the wrist and I'll be in the hospital being fed through a _tube _if I'm not already _dead _and..."

Kurt snorted, effectively cutting him off.

_Goddammit, _why did _no-one _let him finish his tirades? Oh, sure, _Kurt _could go off ranting for half an hour on just how hideous animal prints were and no-one said a thing, but when _he _actually raised some legitimate concerns, someone_ had _to go and interrupt as if what he was saying was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

And it wasn't. He'd seen the inside of Kurt's closet in Lima, and his monologues didn't even come close.

"Please, Wes," Kurt was saying, "for one thing, David would stop him before he could kill you, _and," _he raised an eyebrow at him, "I'll be in the tube with you. And, despite the way he's been acting as of late, he doesn't want _me _dead. Just you."

_"Very _reassuring," he grumbled, "I feel _so _much better now."

"Trust me," Kurt stated, staring him in the eye.

_Dammit._

"Fine," he mumbled, looking away, "but if you get us killed..."

"Don't worry," Kurt declared, grinning.

* * *

><p>"So, you want me to throw them out of the tube?" Andrew asked skeptically.<p>

"Not so loud!" Joshua scolded. Glancing around, he led him onto the dock, turning to him once they were out of earshot.

"Not both of them," he answered quickly, "just the Asian one. Don't _kill _him, but make sure he'll be feeling the crash for a while."

Noting the look Andrew was giving him, he hurried on, glancing over his shoulder nervously. "Just swing the tube back and forth, you know, get them out of the boat's wake just as another boat passes by on his side or something._" _

He stopped for a moment, collecting his bearings. "For that matter, knock them both out if it's necessary to get the Asian. Send them _flying_-I want to see _him _face-plant on the water." He spoke the word "him" with such venom that there was no doubt who he was speaking about.

Andrew shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable. He didn't quite agree with Joshua's motives, but, he _did _owe him a favor. And, he was family, to top it off.

He scratched the back of his neck uneasily, finally saying a rushed, "_Fine," _as he stared at his feet.

Joshua leered. "Good." He started to leave, only to glance back over his shoulder.

"And Andrew," he started, pausing for dramatic effect, "I wouldn't think about backing out, unless you want your parents to find out about that _house party _you held a few months ago on their anniversary."

Andrew paled, taking a step backwards as Joshua walked off, chuckling evilly to himself.

* * *

><p>"What the hell is he doing?" Kurt screamed as they were launched into the air yet again.<p>

"I _told you so_!" Wes screamed right back, clawing desperately at the edges of the tube in an attempt to get some form of hold.

"This is _all your fault!" _Kurt shrieked, nails scratching deep into his arm.

"How is this _my fault_?" He yelled, clinging desperately to the rubber surrounding the outside of the tube.

"_Maybe," _he said, voice rising in pitch as yet _another _huge boat flew by, sending monstrous waves crashing towards them, "_if you weren't such an asshole to-"_ his accusation trailed off into screeching as the wave hit, sending the tube airborn.

"_I'm going to fucking kill him!" _He cried seconds before they landed, sending them crashing into each other.

Wes ignored him, choosing instead to look up, blinking furiously against the constant spray of salt-water.

"Shit." He whispered, blood draining from his face.

"What?" Kurt demanded.

Not saying anything, he pointed forward, watching Kurt's mouth fall open in abject horror at the source of his terror.

The mother-of-all big boats, speeding towards straight towards them.

And their driver(Andrew, as he'd learned), had chosen _that precise moment _to place them outside the wake.

"_We're going to die!" _Kurt immediately began to whimper, "_We're going to freaking die!"_

He wrapped his arms around Wes, rocking back and forth.

"I'm sorry for all the times I put tacky glue on the handle of your gavel!" Kurt wailed.

Wes stared at him, opening and closing his mouth in outrage. "That was _you?" _He asked.

He shook his head. They were going to die anyway; it didn't matter, now, did it?

"I'm sorry for all the times I put artificial flavoring in your Diet Coke!" He blurted.

Kurt's eyes widened for a moment before being replaced by a murderous look. In an instant, his hands were around Wes' neck, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll.

The waves were heading for them already, huge and ominous.

"That stuff tasted like_ shit!" _Kurt screeched. "I'm going to _murder you, _Wesley Alexander Hugh-"

The wave hit them.

Everything went into slow-motion: water flying around them, his own body being torn out of Kurt's grasp and into the air, approaching the surface of the water at an impossibly fast(and painful) speed; Kurt, expression morphing from rage to apprehension, lunging for Wes only seconds after he went flying-

"No!" he screamed, gripping him tightly by the shoulders, "You're going to die by _my _hands, not by some over-inflated yacht owner's!"

He heaved backwards, nearly dislocating his arms from his body as he struggled against the force of Wes' whole lower body dragging in the water.

With one final profanity, he was finally back in, collapsing on top of Kurt as he gasped for air.

* * *

><p>"You <em>idiot!" <em>Joshua raged, glowering at Andrew. "A once-in a lifetime opportunity to throw him off the tube, and you-"

Blaine, having heard the whole exchange, slammed a fist to his forehead, sending him crashing down to the ground.

He stared up at Blaine with gaping eyes. "What the-" he began.

Thad skipped over, pressing one finger to the top of Joshua's head obnoxiously. "You just got _pawned!" _He announced before flouncing off, laughing.

Several of the Warblers cheered, smirking.

Joshua was too busy sputtering to notice that the boat was slowing down till it came to a near standstill, Nick and Jeff hurrying to pull the tube in.

"Oh thank God," Kurt gasped as he stumbled off, slumping onto one of the cushioned chairs with obvious relief.

"You." Wes said shakily, pointing at Joshua. "I will deal with _you _later. If Kurt doesn't get to you first."

He gulped at that.

**So; not really a plot builder, but I think the humor makes up for it, no?**

I kept on wanting to do a tubing chapter, so here it is!

The Warblers will be going back, unfortunately, in one or two chapters, so enjoy it while you can.

I'm fairly satisfied with this chapter. :)

So: I've made Joshua evil, and I kind have to feel sorry for Andrew.

Andrew and Adam from several chapters back; named after my two brothers, who I happen to despise. Blah.

I beat the 100 mark! I'm so ecstatic, I can't even...I love you all. *sniffs*

Glee is NOT MINE.

-Mel


	20. Chapter 20

"I love little kids," Kurt said happily, leaning over to hand to hand one of the girls the glitter glue.

"You would," Wes grumbled, helping his "partner" peel a particular sticker off the sheet.

"Don't be mean to Kurtsie," one of the girls stated, frowning at him. Another one chimed in, saying fiercely, "I bet you're just jealous 'cause he's so nice!"

Kurt just smirked at Wes, daring him to challenge the wisdom of the two eight year olds. he narrowed his eyes at him, grumbling to himself as he forcefully continued decorating his hat.

"I like Wes," his partner declared defensively, "I think he's awesome!" The girls stuck their tongues out at him, turning away to talk to their friends.

Wes returned Kurt's smug look, grinning evilly at the countertenor as he set aside his paper hat.

Really, this wasn't his idea. It had been Thad who, having seen a sign mentioning a Scavenger Hunt, insisted the Warblers come here, dragging the rest of the group along with him.

They were met with two cheerful teenagers in charge of the activities of the evening, several parents, and a large group of young kids, ages ranging from five to ten.

They watched in awe as the teenagers dismissed the parents, reassuring them that everything was okay and their children would be more than taken care of.

Immediately after doing so, they turned to the group, seemed to evaluate them, and asked if they'd be willing to "buddy up," as they put it, with the kids for the events.

They gladly did so, Wes ending up with a boy at the age of seven, Kurt a pair of sisters aged eight "and a half", they firmly declared.

They began with the typical introduction game, sitting in a large circle on the ground as they were asked to stand up and state their name, age, and one fact about them.

Across from him, Kurt stood up, chuckling as he said lightly, "Kurt Hummel, age seventeen, and I'm your _worst nightmare," _he made his voice deep and growly, wiggling his fingers at the kids, who laughed.

He straightened up, grinning at the kids, "Nah, I'm afraid _that _title belongs to Wesley over there." He pointed at him, snickering as he scowled at Kurt.

"Look at that _face,_" he shivered in mock horror. "Yeesh! Terrifying."

Next to him Wes' partner giggled, watching as Kurt finally decided that his little "Let's bash Wes" speech had gone on long enough..

Smiling, he said something about fashion and design before sitting down.

His partner(Isaac, as he learned later) remarked, "He's funny."

Wonderful. Kurt had managed to brainwash _his _partner.

It continued down the line, the only other source of amusement coming from Thad, who, when asked for a fact about him, replied in a heavy German accent, "Vorld domination, and ze deee-struction of all voung children!" He snarled, throwing his head back as he laughed evilly.

A couple of the younger ones actually looked uneasy as David tugged him back down, giving him a look.

Once all that was over, the advisers led them over to an arts-and-crafts table, explaining, "Before we gone on our Scavenger Hunt, we're going to make _pirate hats, _to make sure you can find everything on the list. Pirates are _particularly _good finders."

Wes had to wonder just how _professional _the two really were at that, an AVPM reference of all things.

Going back to the table, Wes felt his jaw drop. Supplies of just about any kind you can dream up, even several bottles of glitter that he saw Kurt eying.

This could not end well for anyone.

Shuddering, he realized that they actually had _paint_(nontoxic, of course), paint of all colors: black, blue, green, sparkly purple(he was pretty sure Kurt would be ransacking that too), anything you could think of, it was there.

As it turned out, the hats were just your average paper hats, blank and all ready to be glitzed up. The kids went, predictably, insane, buttons and feather flying everywhere.

Thomas, as Wes noticed had chosen a more classic approach, much to his pride: black paint, a silver ribbon wrapped around the rim and a single skull-and-bones sticker stuck to the front.

"_Very _nice," Wes told him.

Flinching slightly, he looked at Kurt's hat, half expecting to be blinded.

Kurt, surprisingly, _had not _gone all out, instead choosing to pursue a more detailed, chic look. Blue and sparkly purple swirls were painted on the sides. A pink ribbon threaded with plastic, clear beads was wrapped around it, much like Adam's but with a large, flamboyant bow on the back.

To top the look off, Kurt had glued one large, brown feather to the top, Peter Pan style.

"Whoah!" Thomas, breathed, staring bug-eyed at it. "That's _amazing."_

Wes felt a small twinge of envy, looking down at his rather drab hat in comparison, painted a deep navy blue with a leather cord tied tight around, several gold beads sliding along its length.

"Do you want a feather?" Kurt asked Thomas encouragingly. He nodded furiously at that.

"Go pick one," he told him, gesturing to the large bag of feathers resting on the opposite end of the table. He immediately scampered off, grabbing the bag quickly and rifling through it, searching for the "perfect" feather.

"He's cute," Kurt commented, glancing over at him.

Wes nodded, muttering slightly in affirmation. Kurt threw him a teasing look.

"No need to get jealous, Wesley," he joked, "you know you'll always be adorable to me." He glowered at him for that.

"Are you two dating?" One of Kurt's partners, Kaelie or something, piped up, watching them curiously. "We have an older brother, and he always acts like that with _his _boyfriend."

Wes blinked, surprised, feeling a blush rise up on his cheeks.

He looked up for a moment, catching Kurt's questioning gaze before hurrying to respond, only to be cut off by Flint's buddy.

"Ew," he said, wrinkling his nose, "that's _gross._"

They exchanged worried glances as the kids began to fight.

"No it's not," she said angrily, glaring at him, "my brother's better than you'll _ever be."_

"All right," Kurt said, "it doesn't matter. Go back to your hats. And to answer your question," he stated in a low voice to the girl, "No, we're not. Not yet."

_Not yet._

Wes raised an eyebrow at that, somehow keeping on a cool facade. "Sure of yourself, aren't you?"

Kurt matched him with a look of his own,placing his hands on his hips.

"You're so cute!" The other girl, Meghan, squealed, interrupting their silent conversation.

"You just need a couple name," Kaelie said, beaming at them.

Wes turned to Kurt helplessly. "Couple name?"

The corner of his mouth quirked upward,"It's the name for a certain couple. You basically just mix the two's names. Like..." He scanned the room for a moment, "Me and Blaine. Klaine. Or, say, me and Flint. Flirt."

"We've got it!" Kaelie exclaimed, bouncing up and down.

"Yes?" He asked, amused.

"You can be Wurt. Or Kures," Meghan declared, pausing for a moment. "I like Kures better. It sounds nicer."

"I'm going to put it on my hat!" Kaelie announced, getting to work with the glitter glue.

"Kures," Kurt mused aloud, staring off absentmindedly. "It works."

"Kurt! Kurt!" Thomas came running back, feather clutched in hand. "I found a feather."

Said brunette grinned. "Good job there, Thomas. Now, to glue it on, you'll have to hold it..."

_Kures. Hmm..._

_Eh. Works for me. _And _no, _he did _not _internally squeal at that. How _dare _you imply such a thing._  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Our team kicked ass at the Scavenger Hunt," Jacob proclaimed as he flopped onto the couch.<p>

"We got free cookies. I'm happy," Flint said, humming under his breath as he sat down.

"Movay night, bitches!" Jeff called, taking a flying leap and landing on the sofa only to fall off, gasping as the wind was knocked out of him.

Snorting, Kurt plopped down next to Wes, making a face. "I'm freaking _exhausted,_" he complained, curling up on his side.

"None of that supernatural crap, you guys!" He yelled after Jeff and Nick, who had run off somewhere in search of the movies.

Sighing, he rested his cheek on Wes' thigh, stretching out his legs. He felt a hand run through his hair and closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation.

Back they came running, clutching several DVDs. After much bickering and a thrown DVD or two, the boys settled down to watch _The Sixth Sense, _sending Kurt hiding in Wes' lap.

_"I see dead people," _the boy on screen breathed tearfully, terror showing in his eyes.

"_ Holy motherfucking son-of-a-bitch!" _Thad screeched, catching the rest of them by surprise as he threw himself, covering his eyes, onto the couch, knocking into Blaine and sending them both sprawling, Thad lying on top of him.

He burrowed against the shorter boy, whimpering piteously as Blaine gasped for air.

Kurt convulsed into fits of silent laughter, attention effectively diverted from the screen.

"Poor Blaine," he whispered.

"I don't know," Wes responded just as quietly, "Think they'd ever start dating? They're actually kind of...cute."

Kurt gaped at him. "Thad would _eat Blaine alive_."

He stopped, peering over at the two. "But they _are _cute."

He grinned cheekily, curling closer to him. "Just not as adorable as us."

Wes shook his head, feeling his lips twitch.

"Thad!" Blaine said, staring at him in an something suspiciously close to fear. "Off!"

"No!" he shouted. "Not so long as that little boy is seeing dead people! It's _creepy as hell!"_Several people hushed him, so he fell silent, shaking against Blaine.

"How the _hell _can you two claim not to be dating?" David asked, staring at Kurt in outrage.

He actually seemed to contemplate that, leaning back to stare at Wes.

"I don't know," he answered sadly. Then, "Wes, why aren't we dating?"

He just shrugged, avoiding looking straight at Kurt. Especially with the _look _he was giving him.

"All right then," Kurt said decisively, "we're dating."

He began to sputter at that in disbelief, silenced by Kurt arching an eyebrow at him.

"I don't think it works that way," he protested.

Kurt gave a noncommittal noise. "Alright. We aren't dating."

David, poor soul, just went back to the movie, trying to forget the disturbing scene he'd just witnessed.

* * *

><p>"What was that earlier?" David asked him after the movie, Kurt having fallen asleep against him halfway through <em>The Lion King<em>.

Wes made a face, trying to pry Kurt's arms off him. If anything, they just clamped down tighter, making him exhale loudly in frustration.

Likewise, Thad fell asleep on Blaine a little after tackling him, much to our little Blainey-wainey's misfortune, who was left carrying him back to his room and onto his bed.

Awkward.

"I have no clue, honestly," Wes retorted, heaving Kurt up in his arms.

David just sighed in resignation, heading back to his joint room with Thad, frowning and muttering to himself.

Poor, poor David.

Unable to get Kurt off him, Wes just made a low noise before lying down, Kurt still clinging to him.

After a bit of tossing and turning, he finally sat up with a huff.

"Force yourself on me, you cuddlewhore, I don't care, but freaking _stop sleepmumbling. _It's freaking me out!"

Needless to say, Kurt obeyed.

**:/**

Just a warning: might not get chapters out as quickly as before, now that I'm at the beach. There might be a few day's delay, but it shouldn't be any longer.

And yes, I did just create Blaine/Thad. Blad? Thlaine? xD

Okay, so: For all you readers: How many chapters of this should I do, do you think?Review, and tell me how long I should keep this going.

Also: I'm now accepting prompts!(sort of). Send me a Pm or review with anything in particular you want to see, like pairings(nobody that I've already paired off), hobbies, quirks...whatevs. I probably won't use whole chapter ideas, but hey. Send them in anyway, I might just use them. :)

This chapter: I think Kurt and Wes were a bit OOC here...

Blah. Oh Well. Glee is NOT MINE, nor any movies or songs you'll find mentioned here.

Love to all my reviewers!

-Mel


	21. Chapter 21

"Errgh. Too fricking early," he groaned as they made their way to the beach.

Next to him Kurt snorted, raising an eyebrow at him. "Just how late did you guys stay up, anyway?"

"...Everything began to blur around three a.m," he admitted, rubbing at his eyes with a wince. Kurt had left the room around ten, spouting off some nonsense about beauty sleep with quite possibly the gayest hand gesture Wes had ever had the honor of witnessing.

Needless to say, they'd all been surprised, as they'd just gotten into the Disney movies and were but a few seconds away from starting into _Bambi_.

"Nice," Kurt rolled his eyes, "and you didn't think for one moment that this might affect your output today?"

Wes yawned loudly, placing a hand over his mouth as he shifted the chair slung over his shoulder, readjusting the straps. "Please. Like you wouldn't have been able to resist _Tangled._"

There was a slight silence as they both contemplated what they'd just said.

"...Oh God. When the hell did we switch roles?" Kurt asked in a horrified voice. Wes shuddered.

"We figure it's merely a case of gavel deprivation," Jeff, who had been walking nearest to them, chimed in. "Wes should be back to his normal self once we get back."

"For now, though,"

"-just don't think about it too much and you'll be fine," Nick finished.

* * *

><p>"We're finally here!" Kurt grinned, sliding on his sunglasses.<p>

"...Wonderful," Wes muttered, pulling his shirt off and lying back properly on his chair, automatically closing his eyes. The sun was already making him even more drowsy, the sounds of the rest of the Warblers chatting around them fading into a dull roar.

"No need to be so _sarcastic, _Wes. And really, Wes, sleeping? Really?" Kurt stated above him, voice oddly distorted in Wes' ears.

The warmth was surrounding him, tumbling his thoughts together as if in a blender, leaving him mumbling a barely coherent reply to Kurt that he couldn't think about, couldn't remember, only the heat that was quickly lulling him into deep slumber.

"'s better th'n you nagg'n at me," he slurred, light filling him until there was nothing but light, light and dark, and everything was going black...

He didn't hear Kurt's indignant gasp, nor his angry mutterings or the slight rustling of the bag they'd brought as he searched for _something_...

Unfortunately for him, he didn't here Thad's suggestion, nor the evil laughter of one boy who wasn't afraid to bring out the big guns to defend his pride.

* * *

><p>"Oh, fuck..." he murmured, automatically squinting into the sun as he regained consciousness. Once his eyes were adjusted, he dared a look around him.<p>

"Shit." They'd left him there, alone to walk home by himself. He swung his legs out to the side of the chair, forcefully sitting up. Judging from the position of the sun, it was late afternoon, maybe two or three p.m.

"Shite, shite, oh fucking hell that hurts!" he hissed, wincing as he studied his own reddened skin. He poked his shoulder, watching as the spot turned white for a moment before slowly tinging bright red again.

He'd fallen asleep at the beach. With _no fucking_ sunscreen.

God, there were times when his own stupidity amazed him.

Of course, the Warblers would be getting an earful when he got back, for not only leaving him alone, defenseless, _and _without bothering to wake him up and force him to apply sunscreen, but for not even bothering to write him a _single fricking note._

...It would seem he swore a lot when he was injured.

Wincing in pain, he slowly stood up, gasping out curses as forced his stiff muscles to moves, shakily walking towards the water, hoping it might offer some relief. He submerged himself to his shoulders, making a point of not looking at himself to see just how badly he was burned. There were some things he could go without knowing for the time being.

_Hellooo, skin cancer._

Forcing his way awkwardly back through the water, he clenched his teeth every time he took a step, the feel of his muscles flexing setting his skin on fire.

It was only once he got back to his chair that he realized the others had stolen his shirt.

_Someone is going to fucking pay today, I'll tell you that._

He (carefully!) slung his folded chair over his arm, slipping on his sandals, which were still, thankfully, there.

_And it's not going to be me._

He strolled his way to the boardwalk, hoping to get his walk back home over as quickly as possible.

Perhaps even worse than the tightening in his skin, though, was the way people were _staring. _They were gawking, whispering openly to each other as he walked past. He tried to ignore them, eyes straight ahead but began to find it increasingly difficult.

_It's a fricking beach, people. this cannot be this first time you've seen some tourist get sunburned_.

* * *

><p>He certainly hadn't expected some people, however, to have to guts to walk right up to him and begin speaking with him. Thus, he was very much startles as two teenage girls approached, openly giggling. They were just the sort of girls Leah would laugh at:wearing jean shorts with a bikini top, they had large, painfully obviously enhanced breasts, with lips that looked like they'd had at least ten coats of gloss applied and long, dyed blond hair that reached the middle of their backs.<p>

The taller of the two, stepping forward boldly, gave him what was clearly supposed to be a flirty look as she said in a smooth voice, "You know, I'm _totally_, like, Team Edward." The girl next to her bobbed her head in agreement, giving him a near exact smile as the one in front of him.

_Umm, what? I'm sorry, how is that in any way a conceivably good pick-up line? What the hell was-_

He was cut off by a pair of lips on his. The lips on the girl in front of him, in fact. He merely stood there for a moment, brain freezing over as she _licked his fucking lips_ before wrapping her arms around his neck.

Bad idea. While attempting to mentally repair his childhood, which had just _seconds _ago been lost by the fact that he was currently _kissing _the very definition of a blonde bimbo, he'd entirely forgotten about his sunburned skin. He yelped, leaping backwards as his neck burned in protest.

The girl merely gave him a sultry look, breezing by him with a light call of, "See you later, Mr. Vampire." She tapped his _stomach, _oddly enough, before walking off with her friend, who gave him a slightly disappointed look.

His eyes were drawn to where her manicured finger had poked him, realizing _only fucking now _that there were _w_ords on his belly. Words that, he knew now, someone had _very lightly _written out on him with sunscreen, leaving them the only pale area on his body, making them instantly pop out at whoever looked at him.

He'd done the very exact thing to his cousin, many years ago at their lake house.

And now he was officially going to fucking kill the rest of the Warblers.

But first, the words.

Peering down awkwardly at his stomach, he was able to make out four damning words:

_Kiss me, I SPARKLE._

As if to emphasize this point, several stars surrounded the phrase, only adding to the effect.

And Wes' brain officially broke.

From the pieces rose but one thought: **Must. Fucking. Kill. Kurt.**

And with that thought in mind, he set out.

* * *

><p>Panting, he slammed the door behind, eyes crazed.<p>

The Warblers, draped lazily across the living room, took one look at him and burst out laughing.

"_You," _he growled, pointing at Kurt and stalking over. "_You."_ Kurt bit one his lip furiously, struggling to hide his laughter.

"Oh, _damn, _I didn't think it'd work that well!" Nick said somewhere in the background.

Wes grabbed Kurt by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up to eye level. Kurt's eyes widened for a moment, a slight sliver of fear worming its way into his mind at the crazed look Wes sported.

"I am going to _fucking kill you_," he hissed into Kurt's face. "_I am going to steal ALL of your diet cokes,_ _drain them into the grass, and then fucking BURN the containers in front of you," _he panted.

"It was Thad's idea," Kurt said immediately.

"Hey, check it out, Wes, you're famous!" Jacob called. Wes tore his gaze away from Kurt's face to glare over. "What?" He snapped.

"Look, you're on the news!"

"..._What?" _At this point their conversation had gained the attention of all of the Warblers, and they fought for view of the TV screen.

"_-and today, we have a young 'Twifan', roaming the beach this morning with a certain catchy __phrase written across his stomach. Here's a video:"_

The room was silent as they watched an obviously hand-held video run, showing Wes walk down the beach, scowling darkly about him.

"Wes, it's you!" Someone stated.

"Shut up!" Several people snarled at once.

_"Well, that's certainly what I call fan dedication! Nex_t _up on_ _the NC news broadcast-"_

The quiet was almost scary after Jacob turned off the TV. Of course, Wes' face was infinitely scarier.

"...Wes?" David tentatively asked. Wes stormed out of the room, not saying a word, shutting the door to his and Kurt's room with a _bang._

"...We're screwed."

* * *

><p>"Wes?" Kurt knocked on the door, waiting for a response a few hours later.<p>

"C'mon, Wes, I have aloe?" Still no response. Sighing, he knocked harder.

"Alright, Wes, you have to be finished sulking by now."

Finally, the door slowly creaked open, revealing one very red and already peeling Wes, glowering at him. He'd tossed on a new shirt, covering up all of the burns except those on his face and neck.

Kurt couldn't help the slight twinge of guilt that went through him at the the look of Wes' face. If the rest of him was like this... He stepped in quietly, gently touching his shoulder. Noticing his flinch of pain he moved it away, gesturing wordlessly at the bathroom.

Wes followed sullenly behind him, chin tucked low in petulant pout. Kurt stopped, motioning for him to stand in front of Kurt, facing the mirror.

"Shirt off," Kurt ordered calmly, rubbing some of the aloe into his hands.

Wes gave him a disbelieving look over his shoulder, eying the aloe warily.

"This will help," he assured him, "now, shirt off. _Now._" Wes reluctantly tugged the shirt off, revealing a lobster red front. He'd been sleeping on his back the entire time, so he could at least sleep, thank GaGa, but the tops of the shoulders and the neck hurt like a bitch when burned, Kurt knew from experience.

These were also some of the hardest places to reach on your own. This was where he came in.

He carefully set his slick hands on Wes' shoulders, slowly beginning to massage the aloe into his skin. He heard Wes give a faint sigh, relaxing into his hands. He slowly moved his way up his neck, finally rubbing his thumb lightly along the tips and outer shells of his ears before removing his hands.

"I'm assuming you can handle the rest," he spoke. Wes nodded. Kurt could see from the mirror that his eyes were closed, expression indecipherable.

Kurt exhaled, stepping next to him. "If I could give you a hug right now, I would."

Wes gave him a look. "Please don't."

Kurt laughed, an unexpectedly loud sound in the small room. "Even I have the sense to know not to."

Wes' eyes slipped shut again. "But apparently not enough sense to wake me." Kurt frowned; that stung.

"I'm sorry?" he offered. When no answer came he merely straightened up, fully prepared to walk away before something caught his eye.

"Are you..._wearing lip gloss?"_ Leaning forward, he rubbed his fingers against Wes' lips, studying the shiny residue left over as confirmation. Noticing the way Wes' cheeks seemed to grow even brighter, if possible, he suddenly grinned, the pieces connecting in his mind. "Don't tell me someone _took you up _on your offer?"

"It wasn't exactly my offer, now, was it!" Wes exclaimed defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. Kurt cracked up laughing, doubled over at the thought.

Finally gaining control over himself, Kurt merely shook his head in amusement, padding out the door. "Good thing, too, or I might have to actually hurt the girl."

He left Wes staring after him with wide eyes, suddenly _very _concerned with the bimbo's safety.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay!<strong>

Before I say ANYTHING allow me to apologize to ALL of you. I never had ANY intention whatsoever of going this long without an update and I am so sorry you just have no idea. I just...fell out of writing, and Glee at the same time. Combined with a lack of time to write, I just had no motivation.

Excuses aside, I'm giving just one big apology to all of my readers, especially those who have been with me since the very beginning. I truly appreciate each and every one of you, even if my updates don't show it.

Future updates: I'm definitely not going to be as good as before(i. e. post every day), but I'm HOPING I can get at least one chapter out per week, possibly more. I'm very busy nowadays, what with school, and won't have nearly as much time to type. I can promise that you shouldn't have nearly as long a gap again without me posting SOMETHING.

This chapter: I truly love the idea of this. I have no idea where it came from. If you've ever had a sunburn(which you probably have), you can probably relate to Wes here. I especially can't STAND having my shoulders burned.

Once again, apologies to all my readers, and here's to faster updates!

-Mel


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